Hannah
I sat alone in my room, my face buried in my knees as I sobbed endlessly. The silence of the house was deafening, broken only by my occasional hiccups and sniffles. Noah had been gone for hours, and with each passing minute, my anxiety grew.
He was probably calling the police. I would likely give birth in a cell, my baby ripped from my arms moments after entering the world. The thought made me sick to my stomach, a fresh wave of nausea washing over me.
My eyes darted to the window, where sunlight was still streaming through the curtains—it hadn’t been that long, although it had felt like hours that I had sat there crying.
Huffing, I pushed myself to my feet and walked over to the window, chewing my lip as I considered my options.
Maybe I could tie the sheets tog
