NickAs I stood in the hallway, watching Isabel busy herself in the kitchen, a sense of concern gnawed at me. It had been weeks since she started acting strangely, avoiding conversations about her health and brushing off my attempts to schedule a doctor's appointment."Isabel, can we talk for a moment?" I called out, my voice tinged with worry.She turned to face me, her expression strained. "Not now, Nick. I have things to do," she replied curtly, avoiding my gaze.My heart sank at her dismissive tone. "Isabel, please," I persisted, stepping closer to her. "Your health is important. We need to make sure everything is okay with the baby."She sighed, setting down the dish she was washing. "I told you, I'm fine," she insisted, her voice wavering slightly.Before I could respond, the doorbell rang, interrupting our conversation. I exchanged a puzzled glance with Isabel as I headed to answer it. Standing on our doorstep was Mrs. Mitchell, Isabel's mother."Mom? What are you doing here?"
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