My husband used my fingerprint to access my bank app and transfer all my money!

I never thought a single text could change my life, but there I was, sitting in my car at a red light, grinning at my phone like a fool. On the screen was a photo of a pregnancy test, two pink lines. After four years of trying, it finally happened.

I couldn’t wait to show Aidan. My name is Audrey, and that moment of pure happiness was the last I’d feel for a long, long time. I remember every detail of those few seconds.

The way the afternoon sun lit up my dashboard. The faint scent of the air freshener Aidan always joked about. The song playing on the radio, a cheesy pop hit about forever love that I usually roll my eyes at but suddenly felt just right.

The light turned green, and I started driving, already imagining Aidan’s face when he saw the picture. He’d been dropping hints about wanting kids since our wedding, and his mom, Alyssa, had been asking about grandchildren at every family dinner. I never saw the truck coming.

The crash came from the left, a violent smash of metal and glass. Everything spun, and time slowed down. In the chaos, one thought flashed in my mind.

Protect the phone. Aidan has to see the picture. When the world finally stopped moving, I couldn’t feel my face.

Warm liquid dripped down my neck. Somewhere far away, I heard screaming. A man’s voice kept repeating, Oh God, I’m so sorry.

I’m sorry. The words floated around me like leaves in the wind. Ma’am, can you hear me? Don’t move, someone said.

A paramedic leaned into what was left of my window. We’re going to get you out. I tried to speak, to tell them about the baby, but my mouth wouldn’t work.

The last thing I remember was someone holding my hand and promising, everything’s going to be okay. They lied. I woke up five days later in the hospital.

Aidan was there, asleep in a chair beside my bed. He looked awful, unshaven, his clothes wrinkled, dark circles under his eyes. I tried to lift my arm to reach for him, but it felt too heavy, like it wasn’t mine.

Aidan, I whispered. My voice barely made a sound. He jolted awake, his eyes locking on mine.

For a moment, I saw something in his expression, something that made my stomach tighten. Then he smiled, but it didn’t feel real. Hey, he said, taking my hand.

You had us worried. I tried to smile back, but my face didn’t feel right. It felt stiff, like it didn’t belong to me.

The baby, I managed to say, my voice barely a whisper. Aidan’s hand tightened on mine. I’m so sorry, Audrey, he said, his voice shaking.

The doctors did everything they could. I closed my eyes as the world seemed to spin beneath me. Through the haze of pain medication, I heard the door open.

The familiar scent of Alyssa’s perfume reached me before she spoke. Aidan, honey, the doctor needs to talk to you, she said softly, her voice careful. About the reconstruction options, Aidan said quickly.

I’ll be right back. He squeezed my hand and let go. I kept my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep.

But their voices drifted in from the hallway through the partially open door. She’s going to need a lot of surgeries, Aidan said, his voice low. Her face, mom.

I don’t know if I can. Sure, darling, Alyssa interrupted. We’ll figure it out, one step at a time.