Jennifer was suddenly struck by a wave of nausea—but this time it wasn’t the fading haze of anesthesia. It was deeper, sharper, rooted in something she could neither name nor ignore. She had uncovered a secret, one that was never meant for her ears.
Her stomach twisted violently as dread coiled through her, heavy and suffocating. Had something gone wrong during surgery? Had the doctors made a mistake—and were now trying to bury it?
Her heart hammered as she replayed the recording over and over, each whispered fragment from the operating room sending a fresh chill down her spine. Her hands trembled uncontrollably. And just as panic threatened to consume her, the door creaked open and a doctor stepped inside.
Jennifer Brown had always been a fighter, though most people mistook her quiet nature for fragility. She carried herself with steady grace, her calm resilience rarely shaken. Life’s hardships, no matter how relentless, usually broke against her like waves on stone.
But beneath that calm exterior lay the scars of countless invisible battles. She had endured them all in silence. This time, though, her body was sounding an alarm she couldn’t ignore. It began with a faint discomfort in her side—something she dismissed as stress or indigestion.
The ache didn’t fade. It sharpened, growing more insistent with each passing day. Jennifer told herself she could push through, as always. Hospitals were a last resort, especially with medical bills already stacked against her. But as days turned into weeks, the pain grew savage, gnawing at her morning and night.
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