Anna's POV
I barely made it to the restroom before my stomach emptied itself violently.
The cigarette smoke had triggered something primal and unstoppable. I gripped the cold porcelain, my knuckles white as I heaved until there was nothing left but bitter bile.
Pregnancy had transformed my body into a foreign landscape. Before, I'd merely disliked cigarette smoke; now, the mere whiff sent me spiraling into nausea so intense it made my vision blur.
I slumped against the wall, sweat beading along my hairline. Rachel hovered nearby, concern etched across her face, but there was little she could do. My mouth tasted like acid, and my legs felt like they'd been replaced with wet noodles.
The bathroom door suddenly burst open. Through my watery vision, I made out Marcus Murphy's tall figure, his expression twisted with concern.
Before I could process what was happening, strong arms scooped me up like I weighed nothing.
