Ranon stayed in the operating room with Hazel as she gave birth to their daughter. He held her hand and caressed her head to give her some comfort.
Meanwhile, the process momentarily distracted Hazel. She stopped thinking about the decomposing body in the mortuary cabinet.
She was anxious.
Something could go wrong, and she could die on the operating table. Her mind jumped straight to the worst-case scenario.
She could smell the metallic scent of blood in the midst of the strong scent of antiseptic. It made her want to vomit. The thought that they were going to cut her open made her slightly panic.
Only Ranon's voice anchored her and kept her sane.
"It's okay." Ranon kissed her forehead to distract her, since he saw the panic in her eyes.
"I am thirsty," Hazel said; her voice was very rough.
Ranon was well prepared. He helped her to drink with a straw and then asked if she wanted something else.
