Buried Betrayal on Eight Hundred Acres 34

foot of the bed. His eyes dart over the vitals, calculating the grim mathematics of life and death.

The arrogance completely thins out, replaced by a cold, terrifying urgency.

“This is an abruption,” he mutters, his voice tight. “She’s bleeding internally.”

María steps up. “No prenatal records in the system. She was a walk-in.”

I force my eyes open, staring continue reading …