…and there was the result.
Pregnant.
I processed the shock, breathed through it. Or at least I thought I did–only to look at my phone and see that maybe another minute had passed, and then I spiraled all over again. My thoughts were racing…my IUD had failed? When? How was I supposed to get prenatal care when everything was this bad?
I needed Nathan. I needed my dad. I needed…
…I needed to take another test, just to be sure.
But the tests—one after another—confirmed what I already suspected. Positive. The word was a bullet, each test firing another round of shock through my system.
I left the bathroom, barely aware that I’d picked up the pregnancy tests and was carrying them into the kitchen. The sound of a door creaking open jerked me out of my head. Erika, withtousled hair and sleepy eyes, stepped into the living room, rubbing at her face as she yawned. I stood there frozen, the evidence of my turmoil scattered on the counter for her to see.
“Abby?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”
"Erika, I…" My voice trailed off as her gaze landed on the pregnancy tests. Her confusion morphed into concern in an instant, and I could feel the weight of her stare like a physical touch.
"Abby, what's going on?" Her voice was soft but laced with anxiety.
I swallowed hard, feeling the walls I had carefully built around my double life begin to crumble with each heartbeat. "I'm pregnant," I said simply, the truth heavy on my tongue.
She processed that for a few seconds, stepping closer and peering down at the tests. It was like a royal flush of bad decisions, and I blushed bright red, suddenly embarrassed. “I mean, I can see that…”
“Right. I was going to throw these away.”
"No, wait…" Erika intercepted me, her gaze softening as she took in my disheveled state. "Abby, talk to me."
Still, I reached past her and threw the tests in the kitchen’s trash can. “Well, I can talk to you without holding those. I don’t need a souvenir.”
“Sure.”
“I just…I should go.”
Erika gently grabbed my wrist, meeting my eyes. “Abby, seriously. Sit down. I’ll put on the kettle.”
***
Ten minutes later, we were both seated in her living room, steaming mugs of tea in our hands. Erika had put on some music to break up the silence, but the Top 40 wasn’t doing much to ease the tension. “So…” she started. “First off, why are you here?”
There was no way I could answer that question–well, Nathan’s house isn’t safe and also he’s in jail and maybe his dad wants to kill me so I’ve been hunkered down in the apartment where he kept me prisoner–so I shrugged. “Just needed somewhere to go.”
She bit her lip, frowning. “Did Nathan…did he hurt you?”
“No,” I shook my head, though my answer was a lie. “But someone else has been trying and this being Nathan’s baby…it makes it really complicated.”
“I feel like I’m missing something here.”
I laughed. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Erika."
"Tell me," she urged.
I took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. It was now or never. “What I’m about to say doesn’t leave this room,” I said.
“Okay,” she nodded. “My lips are sealed.”
I shifted and took a sip of tea, and the flavor reminded me of sitting in the tea room with Evelyn a lifetime ago. I wondered if I was dooming Erika to the same fate–but I needed to get this out. "I'm not just some art history grad trying to make it in the city. I'm an FBI agent, undercover. My family…we've always been in law enforcement. I've been trained to handle myself, with a gun, in a fight…"
My words tumbled out, a dam broken, as I watched her face shift from shock to something resembling awe.