Flatline.
A long, piercing sound ripped through the operating room.
"NO—again!"
"Charge it!"
"Clear!"
Vivian's body jerked violently under the shock—then dropped back onto the table.
Still. Too still.
The monitor refused to move.
"Doctor… we're losing her!" a nurse cried, panic cracking her voice.
"And the fetus is crashing—heartbeat dropping fast!"
The lead doctor's jaw tightened. "Not yet. Again!"
"Charging!"
"Clear!"
Shock.
Her body lifted again—then fell. Nothing.
A second stretched. Too long. Too dangerous.
Then—a flicker. A weak, broken spike.
"Wait—!"
"Hold it—hold it!"
The line trembled. Once. Twice.
Then—a fragile rhythm returned.
"Heartbeat!" the nurse shouted. "We have a heartbeat!"
But the doctor didn't relax. His eyes snapped to the second monitor.
Smaller. Fainter. More fragile.
The fetal monitor.
"Fetal signal?" he demanded.
Silence. The numbers dropped. Paused. Then—
