My baby is due in two weeks. Hand on my bump, I swear to my little girl, I won't be anything like my mother. I'm walking home after the perfect baby shower, enjoying the cool summer evening breeze. I can't wait to rest my aching feet. I'm almost at my door when the world goes black. I wake with a blinding pain in my head. Beeping of machines in background. I open my eyes to a white room. Panic jolts through me. I reach down to my bump, to where my baby should be. But she's not there. Then my fingers find a rough line of stitches. Someone has taken my baby. Out of me.
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