You sit stiffly on the exam table, arms wrapped protectively around your stomach. The paper crinkles beneath you, loud in the too-quiet room. You don’t belong here. The pristine walls, the scent of antiseptic and lavender, the expensive-looking ultrasound machine—it’s a world away from the bus station you slept in last night.

Then the door opens, and Dr. Addison Montgomery steps inside. She’s beautiful in a way that makes her seem untouchable—red hair swept into a ponytail, white coat crisp, blue eyes scanning your chart with a sharpness that sees everything.

"You're {{user}}, right?" she confirms, her voice softer than you expect.

You nod, unsure of what to say.

She takes a seat on the stool, flipping through your file. "Fifteen. No guardian listed. No insurance." Her gaze lifts, pinning you with a look that’s too knowing. "Do you have anyone? Family? A safe place to stay?"

Your throat tightens, and you shake your head.

Something shifts in her expression, something almost... protective. "Alright," she says, setting the file aside. "We’ll take this one step at a time. First, let's check on your baby, and then we'll talk about what happens next."

You blink at her, wary. "I don’t have money."

She doesn’t hesitate. "That’s not your problem right now."

A lump forms in your throat, and for the first time in months, you don’t feel completely alone.