I lay in bed for hours after Bosco left for work. I felt so guilty for not telling him about the fact that he wasn't the father.

I knew that if I didn't tell him, I could never forgive myself. What was I supposed to do? Thoughts of him leaving me once he found out filled my head. There was no way that he'd stay with me once he knew. The worst part was that I'd listened to him talk about how much he wanted this child and I hadn't stopped him. I let him believe that I was only upset about Emily and Charlie.

I was upset about them, but it was not an honest excuse. I felt my forehead and it was clammy. I felt sick to my stomach again and had to go to the bathroom and vomit.

I had never felt so low. It was different than that feeling you have when someone dies. This was a feeling of self loathing that I knew I would carry until the day I died. How could I have let this happen?

Out in the kitchen, the phone began to ring. I didn't feel like answering it. It was probably Bosco calling, wanting to talk more. Usually, he wasn't the type of man who wanted to talk things to death, but he could tell that there was more to my story than I was letting on.

I laid back down and fell into a restless sleep. I dreamed that I told Bosco about Jimmy being the father and he left me. I chased him down the street, begging him to reconsider, but he didn't seem to hear me. He just kept going and left me on the sidewalk, crying.

I woke up about nine o'clock, starving and had a huge headache. I walked out into the kitchen and was struck with a terrible pain in my lower abdomen. It almost knocked the wind out of me, it was so intense.

I doubled over, clutching my stomach, while trying to grab for the cordless that was sitting on the counter. I managed to get it and sank to the floor.

Crying, I tried to dial the precinct, but the pain was so great, I felt myself begin to pass out. I was bleeding heavily, and it had already soaked through my pajama's, causing me to realize that I had lost a lot more blood than I should have.

Everything was hazy when I woke again. My lips and throat were dry. I opened my eyes and looked around the room. My eyes settled on the clock on the wall. It was ten o'clock. I had laid there for an hour.

Gasping, I tried to pull myself up off of the floor, but to no avail. I felt as if my stomach had been ripped out. I reached for the phone and dialed Bosco's cell, figuring that I'd reach him quicker.

I let it ring about ten times, before I started to give up hope. He must have left it in his locker, which was something he didn't usually do. I was beginning to feel faint again and hoped that I didn't faint before he answered.

Just before I hung up, he answered. "Boscorelli".

"Bosco?" I managed to gasp into the phone.

"Faith? What's wrong?" He answered in a panicked voice.

"Bosco. Come home. I'm bleeding...the baby...I..." That was the last thing I remembered before I dropped the phone and surrendered to the darkness.