As Qiao Yin cried, she determinedly pulled out the needle.
She pressed her finger against the opening to stop the bleeding, then relaxed against the head of her bed.
Her heart ached fiercely, but she didn't know who she could confide in.
When she first married Lu Lingche, how she yearned for a child with him.
She had even secretly looked at children's clothes and toys, planning in advance.
But now, everything had changed.
The baby had arrived, but she was forced to harden her heart and let it disappear.
She was already unfortunate enough; she couldn't bear for the child to share the same fate, that would be the height of irresponsibility.
The door to the ward was suddenly pushed open, and two women walked in.
On seeing who had arrived, Qiao Yin quickly wiped her tears and braced herself: "Lan Yuyi!"
"Miss Qiao."
"Why are you here? Who told you I was here?"
