PART7-My 10-Year-Old Daughter’s Pregnancy Test Came Back Positive—Then Her Father Pointed at My Husband and Said, “Arrest Him”
PART 7
That evening, surgeons took Sophie into another room for an emergency procedure.
I wasn’t allowed to go with her.
I stood outside the operating room doors, staring at the red light above them.
Daniel sat beside me.
Neither of us spoke.
After twenty minutes, he finally whispered:
“I should have told you.”
I turned.
“Told me what?”
“About Eric.”
I stared at him.
“What exactly did you know?”
Daniel rubbed his hands together.
“I knew he was seeing someone.”
“Someone?”
“A doctor.”
My heart sank.
“What doctor?”
“I don’t know her name.”
“Daniel.”
“I swear.”
“Then tell me everything.”
He took a breath.
“Three months ago, I saw Eric outside a private clinic. He wasn’t alone. There was a woman with him.”
“What did she look like?”
“Early forties. Dark hair. White coat.”
“A doctor.”
“Yes.”
“Did you hear what they were talking about?”
“Only one thing.”
“What?”
Daniel looked toward the operating room.
“He asked her, ‘How long before the hormone levels become noticeable?’”
I felt as though the floor disappeared beneath me.
“What did the woman say?”
“She said, ‘That depends on what you’re giving her.’”
My hand flew to my mouth.
Daniel continued.
“I didn’t understand what they meant.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I thought they were talking about someone else.”
“Someone else?”
“Eric had told me he was helping a family member with a medical condition.”
I stood.
“You should have told me.”
“I know.”
“You should have told me the moment you saw him.”
“I know.”
“You could have protected her.”
Daniel lowered his head.
“I know.”
I wanted to scream at him.
But then the operating room door opened.
A surgeon stepped out.
I rushed forward.
“Doctor?”
He removed his mask.
“The mass has been removed.”
My legs nearly collapsed.
“Is she okay?”
“She is stable.”
“Is it cancer?”
“We’ve sent the tissue for pathology.”
“Will she wake up?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
I closed my eyes.
Thank God.
Then the surgeon said:
“But there is something you need to understand.”
I opened my eyes.
“What?”
“The mass was producing a very high amount of hCG.”
“So she was pregnant?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“It was a rare type of ovarian tumor.”
My stomach dropped.
“Cancer?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“What caused it?”
“That isn’t something we can determine from the surgery alone.”
He paused.
“But there’s something unusual.”
“What?”
“The tumor was highly active despite its size.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means something may have been stimulating it.”
I stared at him.
“Something?”
“A hormone. A medication. Another biological factor.”
My mind immediately went to the pink bottle.
“Could medicine cause it?”
The surgeon looked at me.
“Certain substances can affect hormone pathways.”
My hands began trembling.
“So somebody could have caused this?”
“We can’t say that yet.”
“But you’re thinking it.”
“I’m saying it needs to be investigated.”
Detective Harris stepped forward.
“We’re investigating.”
The surgeon nodded.
“Then you need to know something else.”
He lowered his voice.
“We found evidence that the tumor had been bleeding internally for some time.”
My breath caught.
“How long?”
“Possibly weeks.”
Weeks.
The headaches.
The vomiting.
The exhaustion.
The bruises.
The school nurse calling me twice.
All of it suddenly looked different.
This wasn’t something that had happened today.
Something had been happening to my daughter for weeks.
Maybe months.
And someone had known.
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