No one spoke.
No one laughed anymore.
The celebration had evaporated, replaced by something cold and unfamiliar.
At minute twelve, the door opened.
The doctor stepped out.
But she wasn’t smiling.
And Allison…
Allison wasn’t behind her.
Diego stepped forward immediately.
“What’s going on?” he demanded.
The doctor looked directly at him.
And for a moment, she didn’t say anything.
As if she was deciding how much damage her next sentence would cause.
“Mr. Rivera,” she said carefully, “I need you to come with me.”
His mother stiffened.
“Why only him?”
The doctor didn’t respond.
That was the third crack.
Diego followed her back inside.
The door closed again.
This time, the silence wasn’t just uncomfortable.
It was suffocating.
Inside the room, Allison was sitting upright now.
But she didn’t look like the glowing, triumphant woman from twenty minutes ago.
Her face was pale.
Her eyes wide.
Her hands trembling slightly as they rested on her stomach.
Diego’s chest tightened.
“What’s wrong?” he asked quickly. “Is the baby okay?”
The doctor turned the monitor slightly toward him.
“Mr. Rivera,” she said, voice calm but firm, “before I answer that… I need to ask you a question.”
His stomach dropped.
