I sprint out of Customs with my overnight bag in one hand and my passport in the other. My coat flails behind me. My footsteps pound against the tiled floors. Tourists stop to watch the maniac in the jeans and jacket pass, but I don’t care.

The moment I step into the Belizean sunshine, I spot an open taxi and jump in. Between breaths, I direct him—“Take me to the Medical Center. As fast as possible.”

As the driver shoots down the highway, I stare through my window. Thomas’s words when he called earlier this morning waft into my brain.

“Zora lost the baby.”

The announcement shook me to my core. I left Milton to tie up loose ends at the company and caught the earliest flight to Belize.

I’ve tried calling Zora’s cell, but she won’t answer. Thomas warned that she’s not in the best state right now. I can imagine. It’s hard for me to take, and I wasn’t the one carrying the baby in my stomach for three months.

The news feels unreal.

There’s no way our kid is gone. We were preparing for the second prenatal visit with Doctor Clara, debating whether we should find out the sex. Zora promised we could name him ‘Noah’ if it was a boy.

Now Little Bean is… gone.

Emotions well in me. I let a tear fall in the privacy of the cab. This is the only time I’ll be able to fall apart. When I’m with Zora, I have to be her rock, her strength. I want to be there for her in any way I can.

I brush the tear away, choking back a sob. My heart is heavy.

It wasn’t the way I’d planned it. It wasn’t with the woman I’d planned to have a child with, but I was so excited to introduce a new life to the world. Someone who came from me. Shared a part of me.

Why? Why would God take an innocent baby away?

I sniff and pull myself together when the hospital looms in the distance. The driver slows to a stop, and I pay him generously for his sensitivity and for his speed in getting me there.

The first steps through the door are the hardest. A part of me wants to whirl right back around and head somewhere, anywhere, other than the hospital.

But I can’t leave Zora behind. I could never abandon her.

I force myself to move forward. Gretchen is in the lobby when I walk in. I don’t notice her at first, but she stops me with a hand on my arm. “Wilson?”

“Gretchen.” My voice is husky. I clear my throat. “Do you know where Zora is?”

“She’s in the Recovery Ward. Room 105.”

“Okay.” I stride forward.

Gretchen clasps my elbow and holds me back. “I’m really sorry, Wilson. Zora was… it was like she lost her mind.” Gretchen shudders. “She was screaming and yelling. We cried just listening to her. It must be so hard for you too.”

“Yeah.” I shake her off and stride toward Zora’s room.

My mind races. Zora was so careful not to advertise the pregnancy to her peers, going as far as to book a private obstetrician.

If she was so unabashed with her grief, I know losing Little Bean must have destroyed her.

My chest pains me. I should have been here. Should have listened to that little voice in my head that told me not to leave.

This is my fault.

The thought burdens me, and I can’t shake it off. Do I even deserve to be by Zora’s side now when I wasn’t there for her when it counted?

My hand reaches out to twist the doorknob. My fingers tremble. Before I can sum up the courage to open the door, it burst free on its own and Thomas appears.

He stops short when he sees me, brown eyes filled with surprise. “Wilson?”

“Hey, I’m here.”

He steps back. Glances over his shoulder. Licks his lips. “She’s sleeping.”

“Oh.”

“Come in.”

“No, I’ll come back when she’s awake.”

Thomas grabs my arm. “Stay. She’s exhausted but she’s only slept in snatches. It’ll do her good to see you.”

“Wait, where are you going?”

“The police station.”

“Police station?” My eyebrows hike. “What happened?”

“Not sure. They called saying they had some questions. I’m hoping it won’t take long. I was just about to call Amaya and Diandra to stay with her.” Thomas frowns. “Zora asked me not to tell them yet, but I need to visit the station and… anyway, thanks for coming so soon.”

“Of course. She’s important to me.”

Thomas lingers. “My sister is the only family I have left. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

I dip my head even though I feel like correcting him. I’m the last person he should be thanking. I left her alone.

Stupid. Stupid.

Thomas walks off and I stuff my self-loathing down for a more private moment. With a deep breath, I step inside Zora’s hospital room. She’s lying in the middle of the bed, her long eyelashes splayed.

Beneath the harsh overhead lights, her skin is a lighter shade of brown. An IV line is attached to her wrist. Instead of her usual white scrubs, she’s wearing a dotted hospital gown. Her dark hair is pressed against the white pillow.

I quietly draw a chair up to her bedside and watch her. Guilt swirls in my chest. She looks so frail, so tired. What caused the miscarriage? The last time, Dr. Clara said she was right on track.

As if summoned by my thoughts, the door opens and a doctor steps through. He’s a stooped old man with pale skin, thick grey hair and a pair of fragile glasses perched on the end of his nose. The tag on his white coat says ‘Dr. Fernandez’.

I shoot to my feet. “Doctor, how is she?”

“She’ll be fine with rest, but I think she’ll need to make a police report as soon as she’s well.”

“A report—why?”

He taps a folder in his palm. His lips are flat, his expression dead-pan as if he’s reciting a grocery list. “Zora’s blood scans turned up strains of misoprostol.”

“What’s that?”

“A pill used to induce medical abortion.”

“What?”

“I’m guessing by that reaction you didn’t know.”

“No.” I lick my lips. “Are you insinuating that Zora intentionally tried to get rid of the baby?”

“I’m not insinuating anything, sir. I’m just stating the facts. According to the nurses, Zora stumbled in here at two in the morning with contusions and a concussion. She was the one who warned us about her contractions.”

“So what does that mean?”

“I’m not sure. We won’t know unless she tells us and she hasn’t exactly been forthcoming while asleep. I suggested calling the police earlier, but the other nurses insisted we wait for Zora to explain before doing so.”

“I’ll speak to her.”

“Alright.” He turns toward the door, lingers and then spins back. “Zora is a little blunt, but she’s a good nurse. A loving one. Even the most ornery patients melt around her. She was glowing lately. I can only assume it was because of you and the baby. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat and say, “Thank you, doctor.”

He leaves.

I continue to sit by Zora’s bedside as I struggle to piece together the mystery. It doesn’t make sense. Zora wouldn’t try to get rid of our baby by taking pills. Would she? What about the reports of a concussion and bruising?

What the hell happened last night?

A groan jars me out of my thoughts. I glance up and notice that Zora is beginning to stir. I lean over the bed, trying not to crowd her but too relieved to hang back.

“Wilson?”

“Hey, Zora.”

“What are you doing here?”

Her voice is husky. I notice a glass filled with ice chips and offer one to her. “Take this first.”

She sucks on the ice and stares at me. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?”

“You cut your business trip short because of me.”

“Baby,” I take her hand and stroke the back of it, “don’t apologize. I’m the one that should be doing that. If I hadn’t left—”

She shakes her head.

“Zo…” I hesitate, wondering if it’s too soon to ask, “can you tell me what happened?”

Her eyes falter shut. “Keanu.”

“Keanu?” I stumble back. “He did this?”

“He broke in. Took me to a warehouse. He gave me something to drink. After that, I got contractions.” Tears well in her eyes and she turns her face away from me. “The baby… Wilson, it—”

“I know.” I squeeze her hand tight.

She cries softly and my heart breaks with every sob. Fury builds inside of me, frothing, roaring. I want to tear Keanu limb from limb. How dare he attack Zora? How dare he murder our child?

I kiss her knuckles, barely restraining the storm of anger. “All you need to focus on is resting.”

“I’m fine.” She slips her hand out of mine. “Really.”

My phone rings. It’s Thomas.

“I have to take this. I’ll be right back, okay?”

She nods.

I step outside and put the cell to my ear. “Thomas, Keanu broke into Zora’s place last night. He—”

“I know,” Thomas says. I hear horns honking in the background. He must be out in traffic. “I just met the police. They said Zora’s neighbors heard a commotion in her apartment and called it in this morning.”

Why didn’t they call the police earlier? I shake my head. “What did the police find?”

“Zora’s door had been tampered with. She didn’t have the deadbolt secure. It’s probably how the burglar—Keanu got in.”

“Where is he now?”

“We’re looking for him. He’s not leaving the country.”

“Zora told me about last night.” I share everything she relayed to me. “That sicko forced her to take an abortion pill. He intended to kill the baby.”

Thomas curses. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Me first.”

He sighs. “How is Zora holding up? The nurse said she was out of her mind with grief earlier.”

“She’s fine now. Calm. Composed. Usual Zora.”

“Don’t buy that. After this nightmare, she’s more fragile than ever. I know you want Keanu’s pound of flesh but can I count on you to take care of her?”

“Of course.”

“Good. I’ll text you when we find something.”

I hang up and return to Zora’s room. She’s sitting up. Her hair is brushed to order and she’s got her hands in her lap.

I advance slowly. “You sure you should be sitting like that?”

“We need to talk,” she says firmly.

“Yeah. We can talk about whatever you want.” I near her and fix the blanket. “What’s up?”

“Last night was my fault.”

I stop short. That was the last thing I expected her to say.

“If I hadn’t been involved with Keanu in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened. I should have cut him off a long time ago.” Her eyes fall to the blanket. “I thought I was in love, but that’s no excuse. Someone died because of my stupidity. Your child.”

“And yours.” I reach for her. “Zora, it’s not your fault.”

She pulls away from me. Lifts her chin. “I think we should break up.”

The words fill the room, bouncing around the white walls, growing in the stillness. I reel back, astonished. “What?”

“We were only together because of the baby anyway.” Her voice is calm, level. She looks sane even though the words pouring out of her mouth don’t make any sense. “I don’t want you to feel guilty and stick around because you pity me. I’m fine. Honestly.”

“Zora—”

Her eyes flash. “I don’t want to hear it. Now if you’re done here,” she lifts her chin toward the door, “please leave.”