Page 62 of Cryptic Curse

I love doing little things like this for her.Little things to put a smile on a face that has had too few smiles for her lifetime.

She won’t grow up like me.

She’ll learn to have a good relationship with a man.

I’ll help her.

I’ll take care of her.

Because she’s my child.

After all, I’ve slept with her father.

* * *

Two Years Earlier…

I’m pregnant again.

And this time, I’m keeping my baby.

My father won’t force me to get rid of it.

I don’t know who the father is.There were three men since my last cycle—Diego Vega, Derek Wolfe, and another American named Declan McAllister.

Since I never went beyond about eight weeks with the other two pregnancies, my body is staying firm, and by the time I show in the third trimester, I’ll make excuses or something.

It will be too late to do anything then.

I touch my belly.

“Brisa,” I say.“That’s your name.”

I gave my first two children gender-neutral names since I didn’t know their sex.Rio—River—was first.Then Luz, light.This one is Brisa—breeze.

That will be his or her name when the baby comes.

I’ve been wearing baggy clothes around the house even though I’m not showing.That way, it won’t seem unusual when Ihaveto wear loose clothing.

It’s not that difficult to conceal a pregnancy, right?I mean, you hear stories all the time about how women go to the hospital with gas pains and end up with a baby, having had no idea they were even pregnant.

I wear hoodies now.Even though it’s spring and warm enough that most people are trading theirs for crop tops and sundresses, I cling to mine.I read somewhere—on some forum where the usernames are all fake and the confessions are real—that loose layers are key in the first trimester.Especially if you’re small.They say you can pass off the bloat as bad posture or a heavy lunch, and that baggy clothes buy you time.

I need time.

I keep thinking about how tiny the baby is right now.How it’s not even the size of a plum yet.They compare it to fruit in the articles—peach, lime, avocado.

I memorized the tricks.The safe foods.The warning signs.I drink more water, eat saltines, keep mints in every pocket.

If I can carry this baby long enough, eventually it will be too late for my father to abort it.

I trudge through the morning sickness.Pasting a smile on my face, eating my meals.

Entertaining my father’s colleagues while wearing my skimpy outfits, hoping they won’t notice that my belly is slightly curvier, my boobs slightly bigger.

I make it through my first trimester and breathe a sigh of relief.

The nausea subsides, thank God.

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