Page 132 of Oathbreaker

I slide off my porcelain throne and expel all the water remaining in my stomach in painful heaves.

You knew. You already knew, Winter.

I retch again, icy fingers of nausea and panic swirling inside every hidden crevasse of my body.

One.

One-two?—

You’re bringing a baby into this. You’re bringing a baby into this danger.

One.

One-t?—

You are a nasty, dirty, stupid whore.

One.

One.

One.

Falling. I’m falling over the edge. I shove everything into my bag and open the door slowly. Rio has moved further into the store and away from the hall that houses the bathroom.

I take a step toward the group. One foot. Then the other.

Move your body, Winter.

I whirl around.

And leave the store out the employee exit in the back.

I stand on the other side of the door for all of ten seconds, expecting my bodyguards to run me down and haul me back to Amelia Manor, never to be seen again.

But when they don’t, I blink, and the next thing I know, I’m mid-stride, running away from the café and over to the next street.

I angle my body toward Howard University, not slowing down, even though it probably looks strange that I’m running down the sidewalk in ballet flats and jeans.

My phone rings after five minutes.

I recognize Veronica’s tone. When it goes to voicemail, another call comes through. Then a text. Then another call.

Finally, I slow down. My chest burns, and I accept that I’m way too out of shape.

You’re not fit to give birth. You’ll die on the table. Your baby will die. You’re not healthy?—

Nausea swells within me, and I lean my back on the brick wall of a clothing store.

One.

One-two-one.

One-two-three-two-one.

My phone goes off again, and I’m so on edge I chuck it into the street.

Where it’s promptly run over by a city bus.

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