I woke to the sharp sting of ammonia in my nose. Hospital smell. That clean, burning scent that meant something had gone wrong.

"Ouch." I winced, my fingers brushing my right shoulder. Pain shot down my arm, hot and immediate.

I pulled my hand back and blinked against the harsh overhead lights.

White ceiling and walls. The steady beep of a monitor somewhere to my left.

I was alive. That was the first thing. The second thing hit me harder.

"The baby." My voice came out hoarse, barely a whisper. I tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. My shoulder screamed in protest, and the room tilted sideways.

A...