Grace’s POV
I stared at my reflection. The black dress hung on me like I’d borrowed it from someone larger—I’d lost weight since Helena died, despite the tiny life I was now carrying. My hand drifted to my still-flat stomach, the weight of the secret as heavy as the grief.
“You ready?” Maya appeared in the doorway, already dressed in a simple black suit.
I dropped my hand fast. “As I’ll ever be.”
She stepped closer, voice low. “Any morning sickness yet?”
“No. It’s way too early. Just this constant... awareness.” I couldn’t explain it better—this perpetual consciousness of the tiny being developing inside me. Helena and Hunter’s baby. My sister’s final legacy. How would Margo feel about this... how would Hunter feel knowing his wife was dead?
“Have you thought about when you’ll tell him?” Maya asked, fixing my necklace.
“Not today.” I shook my head. “Not while we’re putting his wife in the ground. I’m worried it will just be too much in one day.”
The drive to the funeral home passed in
