Page 63 of Mafia Pregnancy

“Danielle Arden?” Not even five minutes later, a nurse with kind eyes and graying hair appears in the doorway. “Ready for your ultrasound?”

I follow her down a familiar hallway to the same room where I first saw this baby four weeks ago. “How are you feeling?” Dr.Martinez enters with her usual warm smile, reviewing my chart as she settles onto the rolling stool beside the examination table.

“Tired, but the nausea is getting better.” I lie back and lift my shirt, exposing the slight curve of my belly that’s becoming harder to disguise each week.

Instead of the technician today, the doctor herself spreads the cool gel across my skin and positions the ultrasound wand, and within moments, the familiar sound of a rapid heartbeat fills the room. The baby appears on the screen, so much bigger than last time, with clearly defined features and active movements that make my chest tighten with love and fear.

“Everything looks perfect,” Dr. Martinez says, taking measurements and noting details in my file. “I see a strong heartbeat and good growth patterns. I see no concerns at all.”

“That’s wonderful.” I watch the baby move on the screen, one tiny hand seeming to wave at us.

“The baby is in a good position for gender determination if you’re interested in knowing.” She pauses the image and looks at me expectantly. “Would you like to find out?”

I hesitate for a long moment, thinking about all the ways my life might change once I know. There’s something final about learning the baby’s gender that makes this pregnancy feel more real and immediate. “Yes,” I say quietly. “I’d like to know.”

She moves the wand to get a better angle, studying the screen with professional concentration. “Congratulations, Danielle. You’re having a girl.”

A girl. I’m going to have a daughter. The knowledge settles into my chest with a mixture of joy and terror that makes my eyes fill with unexpected tears.

“I’ll print some pictures for you and prepare the gender results in an envelope if you’d like to share the news with anyone special.” Dr. Martinez cleans the gel from my belly and helps me sit up. “Any questions about what to expect over the next few weeks?”

We discuss nutrition and exercise and warning signs to watch for. It’s all routine information that feels surreal given the complicated circumstances of this pregnancy. When she hands me the sealed envelope containing the gender results, I tuck it carefully into my purse alongside the ultrasound photos.

“Thank you.” I shake her hand and schedule my next appointment, going through the motions of normal prenatal care while my mind races with thoughts of the future for this baby and Leo.

Outside the clinic, I pause on the sidewalk to take a deep breath of the crisp air. Something feels off, like the sensation of being watched that I can’t quite shake. I scan the street and parking lot, looking for anything that seems out of place, but the area appears normal. A few cars pass by, pedestrians walk with purposeful strides, and nothing seems threatening.

I shake off the feeling and tighten my cardigan around my body, conscious of the way the fabric drapes over my growing belly. In a few more weeks, loose clothing won’t be enough to hide the pregnancy, and I’ll have to make decisions about what to tell people and when. I’ll have to tell Radmir or be gone by then. It’s like there’s a clock ticking off the seconds to countdown in the back of my mind.

The drive to Little Scholar Academy takes fifteen minutes through afternoon traffic that’s heavier than usual. I park in my usual spot and check my phone while waiting for the three-thirty dismissal. I have nothing that requires immediate attention.

The preschool doors open, and children begin streaming out with their usual energy and excitement. I spot Leo immediately, his yellow jacket bright against the muted colors of fall, and wave to catch his attention.

“Mama!” He runs toward me with his backpack bouncing against his shoulders. “Guess what we learned about today?”

“What did you learn about, sweetheart?”

“Butterflies. Did you know they start as caterpillars and then they make a house called a chrysalis and then they turn into butterflies? Miss Jennifer showed us pictures.”

“That sounds fascinating.” I help him into his car seat, listening to his detailed explanation of metamorphosis while my mind drifts to my own transformations. “You’re getting so smart.”

“Miss Jennifer says I ask really good questions. Can we go to the park today? I want to look for caterpillars.”

“Maybe tomorrow, baby. Today we need to go home and?—”

“Danielle.”

The familiar voice makes me freeze with Leo’s seatbelt halfway buckled. I look up to find Radmir approaching my car with the confident stride of someone who owns whatever space he occupies. He’s dressed casually in dark jeans and a sweater, but there’s nothing casual about the intensity in his expression.

“Mr. Vetrov.” I force my voice to remain steady despite the panic rising in my chest. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I might take you and Leo to an early dinner.” He leans down to look through the car window at Leo, who waves enthusiastically from his car seat. “Hello, Leo. How was school today?”

“Mr. Radmir, hi. We learned about butterflies, and I told Miss Jennifer you know about dinosaurs, and she said maybe you could come talk to our class sometime.”

“I’d be honored to talk to your class about dinosaurs.” Radmir’s smile is genuine, and I see something soft in his expression when he looks at Leo that makes my throat tight. “But first, would you like to go get some pizza? I know a place with really good cheese pizza and games you can play.”

“Can we, Mama? Please?” Leo’s excitement is immediate and pure. “I love pizza.”

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