When an earthquake struck, my husband shoved me aside and ran to save the impoverished student he sponsored.
A brick from the wall hit me. My liver ruptured, two of my ribs broke, and the baby I was carrying suffocated and died.
As I was rushed into the emergency room, he stopped the doctor:
"Save Xiaoyun first! She's so shaken up, she's likely to become anemic. Just draw blood from Chu Nian. They have the same blood type."
The hospital belonged to the Bai family. The doctor hesitated for a few seconds, then tremblingly did as he was told.
Because my treatment was delayed, the dead fetus infected my uterus, causing severe bleeding. I had to undergo surgery.
The operating room was quiet. I could just make out my husband in the room next door, humming a nursery rhyme to comfort another woman.
Soon, my belly was flat.
I stared at the pale ceiling as beads of sweat mingled with my tears and rolled down my face. With difficulty, I made a phone call:
"Teacher, please take me along on next week's volunteer teaching program in Tibet."
