Chapter 163 The Odds of the Child’s Survival Are Almost Zero
“Saved me?” Brendan’s glare was grim. The words had taken an absurd quality the moment he had
heard them escape Deirdre’s lips. “You saved me? When, might I ask?”
Deirdre pressed her lips shut in despair.
He snickered. “You can’t even save yourself!” he sneered. “For the love of God, don’t ever say
something that cringeworthy again. People around you are gonna feel embarrassed on your behalf!”
He let Deirdre go. Now that his booze-addled frustration had found an outlet, there was no reason for
him
to stay.
She lowered her trembling eyelids. In the darkness, she dreamed of a blurry visage. A child. She had
hoped that, should reincarnation be true, it would become her child again, and she would pay the debt
she owed. But now, she wondered if it was just a pipe dream after all.
Sam came to visit her the next morning. He noticed the mess, Deirdre’s unmissable fatigue as she lay
on her bed, and the telltale signs on her neck and collarbones. It was easy to tell what had happened
last night, and his heart ached.
“Mr. Brighthall came by, didn’t he?” he asked.
eirdre opened her eyes and forced the desolation in her chest back into her stomach. “He did.” She
nodded with difficulty.
“Uh, did you…?”
“He came by so suddenly that I didn’t have the time to tell him.”
Sam was tongue-tied. He licked his bottom lip, scrambling for a reply, and finally said, “Okay. But in my
humble opinion, the sooner we get that information to him, the better. If you drag it out too much, he
might care less and less. That apathy isn’t gonna benefit you, Miss McKinnon.”
“I know.” She nodded, but her mind was colonized by something else, so it was impossible for her to
shift. her focus to anything else.
Her infertility.
She forced her spirit to perk up and climbed out of bed. “I’m gonna take a shower while you help me
clean this up. After doing that, let’s get the discharge papers filled out.”
“Got it.”
He haphazardly tidied the room up, and the two of them left the ward. A few steps later, though, Deirdre
suddenly asked, “Sam, who’s the doctor in charge of my treatment?”
Sam did not understand why she would care. Nonetheless, he said, “Want me to take you to him?”
“Thanks.”
Deirdre entered the man’s office and shut the door while the doctor watched her, looking unsurprised.
After a while, she asked, “I can’t have a baby anymore, can I?”
The doctor was hard-pressed to find the perfect response. As he paused, she added, “All I need is a
clear, detailed answer. You don’t need to worry about my feelings-I’m a lot tougher than you might
think.”
“Well, the answer is… yes. And no,” the doctor said hesitantly. “It’s not like you can’t ever bear a child,
period. You can, but the odds are… pessimistic. The state of medicine today can’t improve those odds,
so for the time being, whether you can get pregnant again or not depends on luck. Maybe… If you take
better
care of yourself and your body, you could bump that chance a little more. But then again, the fetus’
survivability rate will still be near zero. I’m sorry, ma’am.”
Deirdre smiled mirthlessly. “I see. Thank you.”
Sam greeted her as soon as she walked out of the office. She mustered all her strength to cover up the
pang in her chest and took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”
Throughout their journey, Deirdre tipped her head to the side and leaned against the window. She
could feel the chilling gale coming from the other side, but all she could think about was the doctor’s
prognosis.
Low odds of pregnancy. And even lower odds of the fetus surviving. The chance of the latter
happening…
was near zero.
“…Miss McKinnon? Hey? Are you alright?”
Sam’s words drifted into her ears and finally shook her out of her trance. She cast her eyes down.
“Sorry, what did you say? I spaced out.”
Sam did not mind at all. He could tell that something was weighing her down. “Well, I was just
wondering when you’re going to hand in those documents, you know?”
Deirdre inhaled sharply. “Is he at the company now?”
“No. Mr. Brighthall, uh, went to meet Madame Brighthall with Miss McKinney.”
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