As I lay on the cold operating table, a dull pain began to stir in my stomach.
It felt like something was gripping me tightly.
I couldn't tell if it was because my child sensed the threat of death.
My heart ached.
This reaction made me sit up.
I thought to myself, "Forget it, I can't bear to do this. What did the child do wrong?"
"Doctor, I..."
Before I could finish, a strong hand pushed me back onto the bed.
The doctor's eyes, the only part visible of his face, seemed oddly familiar.
He picked up a gleaming surgical knife.
When I saw the name tag on his chest that read "Dr. Denton," I froze.
A devilish whisper echoed in my ear. "Ms. Jensen, I'm beginning to suspect you're trying to murder my child."
"The surgery is on hold. I'll need your cooperation for further investigation."
