There, embedded directly in the thick vascular muscle of my posterior wall, there was a microscopic and strange acoustic reflection: a tiny, bright synthetic double-crossed shape that measured three millimeters in length and that shone like a piece of polished metal under the sound waves of ultrasound.
A synthetic microimplant.
Paula let out a sharp, audible gasp from the door, and took her hand to her mouth.
Diego's eyes squinted. “What is that piece of metal?”
“This is a capsule of bioabsorbable hormonal microgranules,” Dr. said. Salinas, slowly turning his head to look directly at Diego’s bloodshot eyes. Specifically, it is a specialized progestin-releasing acoustic implant that is used in high-containment clinical trials. It is designed to be placed within the patient's food or beverage in a microcrystallized liquid suspension, which is then precipitated to form a solid anchor in the gastric mucosal tissue before migrating to the reproductive vascular bed.
The room seemed to lose all atmospheric pressure.
My hands, still flat on the cold vinyl mattress, pressed against the sheets.
“A microgranule,” I whispered, with my voice as if traveling through fifty feet of dark water. Dr. Salinas... what's that implant doing?
Dr. Salinas looked at me, with her eyes full of unbearable and devastating gravity:
“It suppresses the production of normal chorionic hormones in the bloodstream, preventing standard home pregnancy tests from detecting a fetus ... while inducing localized vascular spasms that usually lead to a ‘quiet’ and unexplained miscarriage between weeks eight and twelve.”
Dr. Salinas looked at Diego again:
“Someone has been administering to his wife a classified chemical abortion, coming from the black market, for the past three months.”
