As Ryan pulled up to the scene, his heart dropped at the sight of Sarah. She was bruised all over, her clothes torn and barely hanging on. She sat huddled in a secluded corner, her eyes swollen from crying. The moment she heard footsteps, she flinched, but then Ryan's voice cut through her fear.
"Sarah?"
Her eyes darted up, filled with disbelief and desperation. "Ryan, please, you've got to help me. I don't want to die! Save me, save our baby."
Ryan's heart ached as he scooped her up without hesitation, carefully placing her in his car. She was a bundle of nerves, jumping at every little sound, clearly traumatized.
When they reached the hospital, Sarah clung to the car's door frame, refusing to go inside. It was then Ryan noticed her fingernails, almost all broken—a painful sight that made him wince.
"Ryan, you're the only one I trust right now!" she begged, fear written all over her pale face as she held her stomach protectively. "The baby... our baby is gone. I can't go on. It's all Clara's fault, Ryan. Did you know? It's all because of her!"
Ryan squeezed her hand gently, trying to steady her. "Let's just let the doctors check you out first, okay? See what's really happening."
Sarah managed a bitter smile, tugging at the tatters of her clothing. Her body was a map of bruises, and her tears seemed endless.
"Can't you see? I was attacked! Clara could've helped me, but she acted like she didn't even know me."
With her eyes tightly shut, her hands cradling her stomach, hatred burned in her expression.
"Forget it," she muttered. "I know you won't believe me, but you can ask the cemetery caretaker where your dad is buried."
Finally, she let go, and the doctors took her inside for an exam.
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