"Great! Head right over there, Zara.” Dr. Innis nods over at the exam table in the corner. “You can lie down comfortably. Locke, there’s a chair right beside the monitor for you."
I step over to the examination table and lie back against the crisp paper lining, pulling up the hem of my sweater just enough to expose my lower stomach. The paper crinkles under me, but my eyes are fixed on the small screen mounted to the wall arm.
Locke moves with quiet, deliberate purpose, dragging the heavy wooden chair right up to the side of the table so he’s sitting inches from my shoulder.
Dr. Innis applies a small squeeze of clear gel to the ultrasound wand. "This might feel a little cold for a second," she warns cheerfully before pressing the transducer gently against my skin.
The cool sensation m
