“No,” she hummed out through her teeth. No matter how much she had stubbornly refused during her hospital stay, there was some reluctance in the final hours per the deal with her husband. A low dosage of pain medication so that she could return home, the hospital bed and stale white atmosphere proving too uncomfortable.
Clarice readjusted on the couch, minding the healing wound at her hip. The raid for this “tooth fairy” had happened only a week ago and in the back of her mind there was still a deep concern for what had happened to her partner.
“I can handle pain medication, you know,” she replied, looking up at him through her bangs.
"I know, Clarice. You can survive anything but not…" He nodded to her stomach again. The news the nurse had given them was shocking to say the least, frightening and rattling, even for the infallible doctor.
Will Graham was detained in the hospital for at least another five months for his facial injuries. The “tooth fairy” sliced his face to ribbons, and thus was in need of several surgeries. Clarice, though injured near vital organs, was in no such danger or delicate state. At least, not fatal.
As her hip was still healing, Hannibal lifted his wife out of the Bentley carrying her inside the house. The house was left the same as when she left that night. It was obvious that he had only flitted between his office and the hospital during the past week. Placing her on the couch, he glanced at her stomach. Inside was…
"Are you feeling sick?"
Garlic butter come to me