"What?" Cynthia was stunned. "I… I am expectant?"
"Yes, for two weeks. And your heart disease is quite severe now. You cant have the baby. Maybe we should talk with your family and abort the child…"
"No! No abortion!" exclaimed Cynthia.
She folded her arms around her legs and was at a loss what to do, yet a warm flow was starting within her.
The fact that she was pregnant with a baby of Easons seemed to her a piece of good news, which she never received any these days.
But the only good news sent her into deep despair.
She craved the birth of the baby, but her life was limited and her health unstable. What was she supposed to do?
What was more, even if the baby was birthed, what if Eason refused to accept it, but loathed her so much? She feared when she died, the baby might be homeless without any family.
Delight, ambivalence, sadness, despair, poignancy—all the feelings mixed, nearly driving Cynthia mad.
The doctor took a glance at her and advised, "Youd better receive treatment immediately; it may save your life. And the child must be aborted, or it would threaten your life. You may not manage to survive more than eight months with it. Youd better think it over."
After a long silence, Cynthia muttered, "I think I know what I want. Im going out of the hospital."
She decided her top priority now was to collect money for her foster mother. Besides, she couldnt fathom any delight of life devoid of the baby in her belly.
The doctor heaved a sigh, shook his head with resignation, and got out in silence.
Cynthia sat hugging her knees, and, burying her face between her knees, started crying.
Nobody could fathom how sad, depressed, despairing she was now.
Shed give anything in exchange for the birth of the baby, yet even her life was limited, and she was in urgent need of money.
Shed rather die than exchange the baby for her health.
Besides, recovering her health needed money, but where would he get the money? From Eason?
No. That man wouldnt even give her a cent, and hed be more than glad to see her dead, so why would he give her the money?
Overwhelmed with sadness and bitterness, she was sort of looking forward to another world.
The next day, Cynthia got out of the hospital. Malvina called her, telling her that there was going to be an international costume design contest soon, and offering her five hundred thousand dollars for a design draft, whether it would win Malvina a prize or not.
While the offer was seductive enough for Cynthia, she rejected it, knowing Malvina was too cunning to be trusted.
In addition, she learned that the first prize for the contest was one million dollars, and the Chinn Corp. would additionally give the winner five hundred thousand dollars. If she could obtain both of them, she figured, it would be enough for her foster mothers treatment, and, perhaps, her baby could live too.
Therefore, she decided to attend the contest herself. Having not been professionally trained, she had the gift and effort, which had won her a few awards.
She returned to Easons villa immediately after she was out of the hospital.
She knew Eason hated to see her, but she had nowhere else to go. After her foster mother was ill in hospital, she checked out of her rented room in order to save money. Bert Lewin, her foster mothers son, had been taking care of his mother in the hospital since.
Going to the Shinn family? No, there was no room for her—there was never room for her there.
"What a surprise!" sneered Eason. "I wonder what made you come out of the hospital so soon if youre not feigning illness."