Page 91 of Private Exhibit
“We need to go now,” Crawford cut in.
“Gods damn it all,” Lydia cried. “I'm pregnant!”
The fiancé gave her hand a squeeze.
Junior choked.What?
Crawford muttered a curse. “Shit.” He reached over and punched a button on the wall. A bar of blue light tracked down Lydia's body. The light winked out, and a hologram of her form appeared in the air right above her.
“We only just found out last night,” Lydia said right as Crawford stripped away a few layers of the scan, revealing the clump of cells starting to form in Lydia's womb.
Andy felt the ground tilt beneath him. He threw out a hand, catching himself on the end of the gurney. The last time he'd heard those words, he'd been shocked, terrified, and happy beyond all reason.
Now? All he could think about was her betrayal.
“Boy or girl?” he bit off.
Lydia pressed her lips together and looked away.
Andy slowly straightened. “Lydia?” he ground out. “Boy…or girl?”
But she didn't have to answer. Andy saw it all over her face.
Andy clenched his hands into fists at his sides, fuming, breathing hard through his nose. He glanced at the fiancé, then looked back at Lydia again. “He doesn't know, does he?”
“Know what?” the fiancé asked.
“You're really gonna do this again?” Andy demanded. “After what happened with us?”
“What is he talking about?” the fiancé insisted.
“Andy,” Lydia gasped. “Don't. Please–”
“She's a carrier for Ashworth-Grahams Disease,” Andy bit off, turning to the fiancé, looking him straight in the eye. “Any son you two might have will likely be dead inside a year.”
“Anderson!” Lydia covered her mouth to stifle a sob. “How could you?”
“No, how couldyou?” he yelled back. “You knew! You knew the whole time, yet you had a son anyway. You gave birth to our boy,knowinghe was going to suffer and die. And you never said a gods-damned word!”
“Lydia?” the fiancé asked. “Is this true?”
“I'm sorry to interrupt, folks,” Crawford cut in, “but we really need to go before it's too late.”
Andy turned and grabbed the first nurse who breezed by. “Book an O.R.,” he ordered, then turned back to Lydia. “I'm terminating the pregnancy and doing the surgery.”
“Gerard,” Crawford said, “I can help–”
“I don't need your help!” Andy shouted.
Crawford gave him a steady look, full of forced patience. “Regardless, you know you can't operate on her. It's unethical. Besides, I've been Lydia's doctor for several years now.”
“What?” Andy gasped. That was news to him.
“So will you let me do this,” Crawford went on, “or do I need to have security escort you out?”
“You can't do the surgery,” Lydia quietly cried.
“You don't have a gods-damned choice,” Andy snapped at her.
