Then I turned and walked away. I couldn’t sit there and listen to any more of her misgivings, given how many I already had.
With every step seeming more exhausting than the previous, I made my way to the hospital’s genetics department.
By the time I arrived to the workplace, my heart was pounding in my chest, a continual reminder of what was in danger.
The doctor handled the DNA test process like any other routine checkup, explaining everything in a calm and controlled way. from for me, it was everything from typical.
They collected my blood, swabbed the inside of my cheek, and promised to get the findings as quickly as possible.
For hours, I roamed the claustrophobic waiting room, reviewing everything in my head. Stephanie’s face and the way she was gazing at me, begging me to trust her, kept coming to mind.
