Page 182 of Haze of Obedience
"Tell me what hurts."
"My stomach. Twice they knocked into it. It's...it's throbbing."
He pulls me into him. "As soon as we get across, we're going to see a doctor."
It feels like forever, waiting in line to get to the booth. I try to think positive thoughts, but I keep wondering if our baby got hurt. Dirk and I stay silent, but I see the worry on his face. He kisses my hand so many times I lose count.
By the time we get to the immigration officer, I'm tired and ready to go to sleep.
"We're going to the gala," Dirk says when the officer asks for our passports. Dirk hands him two, and he stamps them then gapes at me for a brief moment.
"Are we able to go now?" Dirk asks.
He tears his gaze from me and hands him back the passports. "Yes. Have a nice trip."
"Thank you." He drives past the gate and crosses over into the U.S. As soon as we get a few kilometers off the bridge, Dirk veers into a parking lot. He places his hand on my cheek. "You look pale."
"I'm tired."
A truck pulls next to us.
"My brothers are here. We need to go. Let me come help you out."
"I can walk."
"Just wait for a minute, and let me come help you." Dirk slings his backpack over his shoulder, comes to my side of the van and helps me out.
When I stand on my feet, I'm dizzy, and he stops me from falling.
"Zoe—"
I pass out. Everything turns black. When I wake up, I'm in a bed, and a man I've never met is hovering over me. He's a good looking man maybe in his late forties with black and silver hair.
"Who are you?" I cry out, scared, and sit up.
He holds his hands up. "Easy there. I'm a doctor."
"Zoe." Dirk is on the other side of the bed and takes my hand. His hazel eyes are full of worry.
"What happened? Is our baby—"
"Everything is fine. The baby is perfectly healthy," the doctor says.
"How do you know?" I ask.
"We ran an ultrasound while you were sleeping. Everything is fine. You have no reason to worry."
"I don't?"
"No."
Tears fall, and I nod. "Okay. Thank you."
Dirk wipes my cheek.
The doctor says, "You had some bleeding—"
"What?" I panic.
