Chapter 682

"Vivian, I just received Mother's prenatal report." Fiona's voice trembled noticeably. "The doctor detected fetal abnormalities and recommended terminating the pregnancy. But Mother—"

Vivian immediately set down the medical chart. "What exactly is the situation?"

Her phone vibrated twice as the test results came through. Vivian studied the screen, her frown deepening.

The fetus showed clear cranial deformities and underdeveloped limbs. Worse, all indicators suggested extremely low survival rates even if carried to term.

"How did this happen?" Vivian murmured. The previous checkup had been perfectly normal.

Advanced maternal age already carried risks, and now severe fetal complications posed threats to both the unborn child and Queen Eleanor's life.

"Fiona, this pregnancy—" Vivian took a steadying breath. "We must proceed with surgery immediately."

Muffled sobs came through the phone.

"I know Mother can't accept this." Fiona choked back tears. "Vivian, isn't there any other way?"

Suddenly, the line crackled with interference.

"Dr. Luna! Please save my baby!" Queen Eleanor's desperate voice cut through, bordering on hysteria. "You've monitored this child's growth from the beginning—you understand him best!"

Vivian tightened her grip on the phone.

"Your Majesty, I'm so sorry." Her voice remained gentle yet firm. "Continuing this pregnancy endangers you both."

"No!" The queen's scream pierced the line. "I can feel him moving! He's fighting to live!"

Heart-wrenching sobs followed.

"This child...I've waited over a decade for him." The queen's voice dropped to a shattered whisper. "Doctor, please...think of another solution."

Vivian closed her eyes.

As a physician, she understood the cruelty of this decision better than anyone. As a woman, she felt the mother's agony.

"Your Majesty, please calm yourself." Vivian softened her tone. "Let's conduct more thorough examinations first."

Only broken whimpers answered.

Vivian knew rational arguments wouldn't reach the nearly fifty-year-old queen clinging to this last hope of motherhood.

"I'll come personally." Vivian finally said. "Until then, you must preserve your strength."

Hanging up, Vivian gazed blankly at the window.

The sunset stained the clouds blood-red—like the fading life of that unborn child.