?Chapter 1597:


    “Look at that guy, pushing sixty, easy. And she’s gotta be nearing fifty. Still at it, huh?” a pregnant woman said, her tone mocking.


    Her husband chuckled. “No way I’d have the energy for that at their age. But look at her—her hands are puffy as balloons, and she’s barely showing. That baby’s got a rough road ahead.”


    Gracie overheard their words and stole a nce at the couple.


    The man, with a shock of white hair, stood tall and imposing, his presence filling the room like he owned it, but Gracie couldn’t see his face.


    She caught only the woman’s side profile—her face swollen, pale as a ghost. She leaned heavily on the man, looking like she was one step from falling apart.


    The doctor, brow furrowed, checked the woman’s blood pressure. “Your numbers are through the roof, and you’re swollen all over. This is textbook preempsia, and you’re only fourteen weeks along. What’s your name?”


    “I’m Shari Astley. I had checkups at the Central Hospital before, and they suggested… ending the pregnancy. Doctor, I marriedte—this might be my only chance at a child. Could you help us save our baby?”


    The doctor’s face grew heavier, his eyes flicking to the man, who carried himself like someone used to giving orders and having them followed. He knew he couldn’t afford to offend people like him.


    Emmett spoke up, his voice steady but edged with steel. “Please do everything you can to save our baby.”


    His tone was polite, sure, but itnded like a directive.


    The doctor shot them another look. “We’ll admit you for monitoring, but I’ve gotta be straight with you. Preempsia at fourteen weeks is bad news for the baby’s development. You need to brace yourselves.”


    Emmett gave a curt nod. “We know. The doctors at the Central Hospital told us the same thing. We’re ready to take the risks.”


    The doctor slowly shook her head, letting out a tired breath. Bringing a baby into the world this early, with the mother battling preempsia, was a recipe for trouble, no doubt about it—but the parents stood firm. She could not go against their choice, but honesty demanded she spell out every risk.


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    With that, she went through the details once more. Shari took it all in, herposure hanging by a thread, ready to unravel at any moment.


    She had already heard that very same advice at the Central Hospital, where the doctor had gently steered her toward Shirie Hospital, the crown jewel of OB-GYN care across all of Vand.


    “Doctor, is there any way to make sure our babyes into the world strong and healthy?” Shari asked, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.


    The doctor nodded. “If we get your blood pressure under control, we may be able to make that happen, though some risks will still remain. For now, let’s get you admitted for close monitoring. I will set up a few tests to gauge how the baby is progressing.”


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