Mrs. Thompson, Harry had some impression of this person, she looked honest and upright, but no one would have thought that she would do something like drugging.
The butler said, “I have had her arrested, and she is being interrogated now.”
Why interrogate her? Because everyone knows that someone like Mrs. Thompson, with no grievances against Hattie, wouldn’t have any benefit in drugging her to induce an abortion.
What could make her act so recklessly? Who is behind her?
In fact, Harry already had a faint guess in his mind.
…
The butler left, and Harry continued to watch over Hattie.
During these days, he was extremely cautious. Knowing that Hattie was pregnant, he made sure to check everything she had put into her mouth beforehand, afraid that this child, which had been so hard-won, would meet with an accident and disappear.
Everything seemed to be going smoothly, but Harry was too scared to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he had nightmares. He always had the feeling that as soon as he relaxed, the child would appear before him, bloodied just like in his dreams.
This child was the hope and future of him and Hattie. It was his hope. Unfortunately, the greater the hope, the greater the disappointment. In the end, this child disappeared from Hattie’s belly just like that nightmare.
Harry stared dry-eyed at the hanging medicine above. The medicine trickled even slower than a second hand. He didn’t know how long he had been looking at it, until the doctor who was going to operate on Hattie walked in.
He changed out of his surgical gown and put on a serious white coat, with a mask on his face.
“Mr. Stewart.”
Harry snapped out of his daze and stood up. “Dr. Lee.”
“I want to talk to you in detail about Miss Mason’s condition. This is her second miscarriage. Her body is very weak and not suitable for pregnancy. Even if she hadn’t been induced, it would have been very difficult for her to carry the child to term.”
Harry felt like he had fallen into an ice cellar, a sharp pain pierced straight into his heart, and it collapsed with a bang.
“What are you saying?”
The doctor frowned and emphasized, “She had a miscarriage before. Don’t you know that?”
This day was undoubtedly a day of catastrophe for Harry. He would never forget this day in his life. He learned that he had lost two children.
Apart from this time Hattie being pregnant and having a miscarriage, when exactly did she have a pregnancy and miscarriage before?
Hattie had been with him all his life, and the only time she had left him was…
The two years she spent in prison.
Harry only half listened to what the doctor said next, unable to concentrate, his mind unable to focus. He was in a daze with all the information about Hattie having had a miscarriage two years ago, how her body was weak, and how it would be difficult for her to conceive in the future.
After Dr. Lee finished, he sighed several times and then left.
Harry sat dejectedly in a chair. He shakily took out his phone and made a call. The file he had never dared to open was brought by his assistant. Most of the contents in the folder were photos and Hattie’s diagnosis in prison.
From minor illnesses like colds to major injuries like amputations and miscarriages.
He saw Hattie’s injuries in conjunction with what the doctor had said before. He could roughly guess how difficult Hattie’s life had been in those two years in prison.
He had his assistant look into this information months ago, but he had never dared to look at it himself.
His fingers trembled as he took the file and opened it, taking out a photo that made his pupils shrink.
Harry took a deep breath, as if this was the only way he could muster the strength to go through all the photos and documents.
But as he went further, his breathing became more rapid, his sanity on the verge of collapse.
His hands started to shake uncontrollably, almost dropping the folder. When he saw Hattie being beaten and humiliated in the photos, he lost his grip, and the entire folder fell to the ground, the photos scattered everywhere.
Harry lowered his eyes and looked at the photos, full of Hattie being beaten and abused in prison.
He looked at Hattie’s injuries and imagined how difficult her life in prison was. But after seeing these photos, what he had imagined was just the tip of the iceberg.
In the photos, Hattie was slapped, punched in the stomach, her fingers smashed with rocks, her back scalded with boiling water, her back trampled with blood, leaving scars from cigarette burns on her intact skin, standing in the snow in a single piece of clothing in the middle of winter, being sprayed with a high-pressure water gun…
No wonder the day he tried to bathe her, lifting the shower head, she was so afraid.
Yes, how could she not be afraid? Harry looked up, covering his eyes with his hands. If he had gone through all of this, he would also reflexively be afraid.
Harry never took his eyes off the photos in his hand from start to finish. Flipping through to the end, his face had already turned cold.
Until he picked up a medical report from the ground, which clearly stated that Hattie had a miscarriage due to an accident. The child in her belly was seven weeks old at that time, and it had been kicked out of her stomach that night when her finger was smashed.
A seven-week-old child.
The pain in his chest was like a knife thrust, making it difficult for him to breathe.
Harry looked up, trying to hold back the surging tears. He covered his eyes with his hand, but tears still flowed down his face.
This was what he had been avoiding, what he had never dared to look at. If the doctor hadn’t told him that this was Hattie’s second miscarriage, he might still have deluded himself into not looking at these files.
Hattie woke up the next day. She instinctively touched her abdomen.
She had been pregnant for a short time, and there was no change in her flat belly. But as she touched it, she knew the child was gone.
The first person Hattie saw when she woke up was Harry. When she saw him, she almost didn’t recognize him.
How should I say this? The impression of Harry in her mind had always been someone who paid great attention to his appearance. He was good-looking himself, and those who didn’t know him would say he was a gentleman, gentle and refined.
But those who knew him, like Hattie, would describe him as a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
He always maintained his image no matter when, wearing designer suits and dress shirts, shining leather shoes. His tie was always straight.
But look at him now, everything was wrinkled, his hair was messy, and his tie was missing. His face looked unwashed, with a tinge of stubble growing on his chin. His eyes were red, and there were dark circles that couldn’t be concealed under his eyes.
It seemed like the loss of this child had a great impact on him. He looked more haggard than the person who had just had a miscarriage.
Note: This is a direct translation of the content provided into English, following the specified guidelines for translation style, structure, focus, coherence, tense usage, sentence structure, fidelity to content, currency consistency, and response format.