Buried Betrayal on Eight Hundred Acres 34

my eyelids open to a slit. The bright lights blind me.

“Why…” I choke out, my throat thick and numb. “Why isn’t she crying?”

Nobody answers. The nurses are frozen.

“Why isn’t my baby crying?!” I scream, but it sounds like a weak croak.

María is moving frantically at a warming station in the corner, her back to me. Two pediatric nurses are huddled over continue reading …