Page 34 of The Final Faceoff
I blink at him. “That’s your takeaway?”
“Science doesn’t lie. Imagine the possibilities if you spend the next few months ensuring their first words are ‘My kingdom for a horse.’”
A laugh escapes before I can stop it, the sound cutting through my tangled thoughts. The knot in my stomach loosens.
“I still don’t understand why you’re so calm,” I whisper, stealing a glance at Leif.
He lifts a brow, his expression neutral but somehow still infuriatingly amused. “You want me to panic?”
“I want you to at least pretend this is a life-altering moment.”
Leif tilts his head, like he’s genuinely considering it. “Hailey, this is a life-altering moment.”
“Too late. You wasted the opportunity.”
His lips twitch, but he doesn’t argue. He just reaches into his pocket and hands me a stick of gum.
Of course he does.
It’s such a Leif thing to do—annoyingly considerate, like he somehow knew I’d spend the entire morning feeling like I swallowed a porcupine. Like he knew I’d need something to do with my hands. I stare at the wrapper, my fingers tight around it, but for some stupid reason, my eyes start stinging. Everything he does has been making my eyes sting lately, and I don’t do crying.
My father has always said that crying is for the weak. It’s been his thing ever since I can remember. Mom would stop him, but during her funeral he made sure we didn’t shed a tear. We don’t show weakness—ever.
Maybe that’s why I’ve been so unbearable since Leif found me. When the world is trying to drown me, I can’t handle nice. Nice makes everything real, and real is terrifying. No one should be nice to me right now. I haven’t earned it.
“Hailey Castilla?”
I blink and look up. “That’s me.”
A nurse stands in the doorway, holding a tablet, her smile professional but kind. “We’re ready for you.”
My stomach flips. I nod, but my body doesn’t get the message right away. My fingers twitch against my thighs as I force myself to stand, pretending my legs aren’t becoming jelly, or butter melting because it’s suddenly a thousand degrees hotter than it was a few seconds ago.
Leif moves beside me, completely unfazed, like this is a casual day. Like he’s done this a thousand times. He doesn’t say anything, just walks at my pace, which should annoy me but somehow doesn’t. I swallow and follow the nurse, stepping through the doorway into a hallway that smells like antiseptic, lavender air freshener, and whatever medical-grade cleaner they use to scrub existential dread off the floors.
“This is your first?” the nurse asks as she leads us down the corridor.
I nod, gripping the gum like it’s a security blanket. “Yeah.”
Her eyes soften. “You’ll be fine. Rosie, our technician, is wonderful. She’ll walk you through everything.” She pauses, glancing at Leif. “And your partner can sit right beside you.”
“Oh, he’s not?—”
Leif beats me to it. “I’m staying.” His voice is firm, but his expression is easy, like there was never another option.
The nurse smiles like that’s the most normal thing in the world. “Great. Right this way.”
The exam room is small but bright, with a sonogram machine quietly humming in the corner. A rolling stool rests beside it, positioned in front of an exam table covered in crisp white paper. The walls are painted a muted shade of blue, clearly meant to be soothing, though it does nothing to settle the knot in my stomach.
I stare at the machine like it might sprout fangs.
The nurse gestures toward a small counter. “You can leave your things there.”
I nod, already feeling like I’m in some weird out-of-body experience where my responses are on autopilot.
She pulls a folded sheet of crinkly paper from a nearby drawer and places it on the exam table. “For this scan, we’ll be doing a transvaginal sonogram.” Her voice is warm, gentle, completely professional, but my brain screeches to a halt. “Undress from the waist down and cover yourself with this. The doctor will be in shortly.”
I blink at her. Then at the flimsy paper sheet. Then back at her. “Right. Of course.”
