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“Isabella?”
Tori’s hand settled over mine. I jumped. The phone nearly slipped from my grasp. Her brows immediately pulled together.
“Honey?”
The concern made everything worse. I tilted my head back and dragged as much air as I could into my lungs. The room suddenly felt warm and too damn loud.
“Yeah.” The answer came automatically. I tilted my head to the side, refusing to let the panic show. “No. I’m totally fine.”
The second it left my mouth, my voice cracked. Real smooth there. Nobody who was fine answered a question like that.
“Check her for fever,” Kinsley insisted. “You look very pale. She looks pale, huh Tori?”
A hand touched my forehead. Then my cheek.
“You do actually. There’s a virus going around. Declan’s teacher mentioned that several kids down with strep. You don’t feel warm, hmm.”
“Yeah, that could be it. Just a little bug.”
The excuse hung there. Thin and fragile, just like my grip on reality. I closed the app before either of them could accidentally glimpse the screen.
A virus. Right.
Because a nonexistent case of strep throat routinely messed with your menstrual cycle. Across from me, the conversation gradually shifted toward soccer camp and schedules. Declan’s name came up more than once.
Tori immediately brightened, her excitement obvious as she talked about attending with him this year. I barely heard any of it. My attention remained fixed on the untouched eggs sitting in front of me. The smell turned my stomach again. I pushed the plate farther away.
When I glanced up, I found Tori watching me. The way Marcel typically did when he was dissecting me whole. The way my mum used to. Tension settled between my shoulders. I immediately looked away.
Then I started counting the days and weeks again. Every calculation brought me to the same terrifying conclusion.
How the hell had I gotten here?
My period was three and a half weeks late. The number repeated itself over and over inside my head. Three and a half fucking weeks.
Why hadn’t I insisted Pasha get the morning-after pill?
We’d been careful. Well… Careful after the first few times. The realization did absolutely nothing to help my spiraling thoughts. No, there was another explanation here. There had to be.
The castle? No, the nightmares had stopped once we’d made it home. Stress? That could be the factor. A very logical one, really. I’d heard that stress often messed with a cycle.
And I had an overabundance of it. After all, I was keeping the biggest secret ever. All while living under the same roof as my overprotective brother.
Across from me, Kinsley was still talking. Something about Alek ordering pregnancy tests in bulk and how she’d countered that by purchasing each of them a box of extra large, 1000 count condoms.
Normally, I would have laughed. Instead, my stomach rolled. I dropped my napkin onto the table. The movement immediately caught Tori’s attention.
“Bellaruso, you barely touched your breakfast.”
“I’m not really hungry.”
They both deadpanned. My declaration was suspicious enough on its own. I usually cleaned my plate.
“Okay, now I know something is wrong,” Kinsley declared, while Tori nodded in agreement.
“My throat is sore, now that I think about it. My bones ache, too.”
The excuses sounded pathetic, even to my own ears. Kinsley narrowed her eyes. Tori looked unconvinced. Neither of them spoke. Which somehow felt worse. I rose from my chair before they could continue the interrogation.
