Chapter 4

The moments of that night didn't just fade. By the time six weeks had passed, the memory of the penthouse felt like a fever dream I’d had while sick with the flu.

It didn't feel real. What felt real was the pile of "Final Notice" envelopes on the kitchen table and the way my stomach performed a slow, sickening roll every time I caught the scent of the diner’s fryer.

I stood in the cramped bathroom of our apartment, the light flickering.

It was 6:00 AM. Katherine was still asleep or at least, she was pretending to be so she didn't have to look at me.

I looked down at the plastic stick sitting on the edge of the sink. I didn't want to pick it up. If I didn't look at it, maybe it wasn't true. Maybe I was just exhausted. Maybe the stress of the tuition was finally manifesting as a permanent case of the flu.

But I knew. Deep in my bones, where the exhaustion lived, I already knew.

I reached out, my fingers shaking so hard I nearly knocked the toothbrush holder over. I picked up the stick.

Two pink lines.

They weren't faint. They were bold, dark, and....mocking me.

"No," I whispered, the word catching in my dry throat. "No, no, no."

I sank onto the closed lid of the toilet, the cold plastic shocking my skin. My mind raced.

Six weeks since the night of the rain. Six weeks since the man with the blue eyes and the "no names" rule had walked out of his own bed and left me in the dark.

I had wanted one night to be selfish. One night to forget I was a guardian, a waitress, a failure. And the universe had decided to punish me by making that night permanent.

"Lyra? Are you dying in there or what? I need to get ready."

Katherine’s voice pounded against the bathroom door, followed by a sharp, impatient knock.

I scrambled to hide the test, shoving it deep into the pocket of my robe. I splashed cold water on my face, trying to erase the paleness of my skin. When I opened the door, Katherine was standing there, her school blazer wrinkled and her expression full of her usual teenage venom.

"You look like crap," she said, pushing past me to get to the mirror.

"Thanks, Kat. Good morning to you, too."

She ignored my sarcasm, reaching for her hair straightener. "The school sent another email yesterday. To my student account this time. They said if the balance isn't cleared by Friday, I don't need to show up for the midterms. That’s three days, Lyra."

I leaned against the doorframe, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over me. "I’m working on it. I’m picking up double shifts all week."

"Double shifts at a diner aren't going to fix two thousand dollars!" she snapped, turning to face me. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and for a second, the "rude teenager" mask slipped, revealing the terrified fifteen-year-old underneath.

"Why can't you just get it together? Why do we have to live like this? It’s been four years! Everyone else's life moved on after the accident, but we’re just... stuck."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell her that I was stuck because I was holding her up. I wanted to tell her that I was twenty-six and pregnant with the child of a man whose last name I didn't even know.

Instead, I just looked at her. "I will get the money, Katherine. I promise."

"With what? Your sparkling personality?" She scoffed and turned back to the mirror.

"Just don't bother coming home if you don't have it. I’d rather be a ward of the state than keep watching you drown."

The door slammed in my face.

I walked into the kitchen and sat at the table, staring at the scarred wood.

I felt like I was at the bottom of the ocean, the pressure of the water slowly crushing my ribs.

I had a sister who hated me, a bank account that was empty, and a life growing inside me that I had no way to provide for.

And the father.

I closed my eyes and tried to picture his face. I remembered the way he looked in the dim light of the diner.

I remembered the heat of his skin. But I realized that I didn't even have a way to find him.

He was just "Gabriel."

He could be anyone. He could be a thousand miles away by now. He had walked away that morning. He didn't want a "happily ever after" with a waitress, he wanted a distraction.

I stood up, forced my legs to move, and started getting ready for my shift. I had to work. I had to earn every penny I could, even if my stomach felt like it was being twisted in knots.

The bus ride to the diner was a blur. I sat in the back, my hand instinctively resting over my stomach. It was flat, but it felt like a ticking time bomb.

When I walked into ‘The Silver Spoon diner’, the smell of bacon grease nearly sent me running back out the door.

"You’re late, Olson," my boss, Lou, grunted from behind the grill.

He didn't look up from the sizzling patties. "Table four needs water. And someone spilled a milkshake in the back booth. Get on it."

"I’m on it, Lou," I said, my voice sounding like it belonged to someone else.

I grabbed a pitcher of water and walked toward the booths. My mind was a whirlwind of panic. How was I going to tell Katherine? How was I going to keep working twelve-hour shifts when I could barely stand up?

I passed the back booth, the one where Gabriel had sat six weeks ago. It was empty now. I stared at the spot where he’d laid that hundred-dollar bill.

I realized then that I couldn't just be "concrete" anymore.

Concrete cracks under too much pressure. I had to be something else. I had to find him.

Not because I wanted him, and certainly not because I loved him. How could you love a man who leaves before the sun comes up? but because he owed this baby a chance.

I wouldn't let my child grow up the way Katherine was growing up, bitter, hungry, and afraid of the mailman.

But as I poured water for a grumpy truck driver at table four, the reality hit me again.

I didn't know his name. I didn't know his business. I didn't even know if Gabriel was his real name.

I was a common waitress with a secret that was going to change everything, and the only man who could help me was a shadow in a city of millions.

I gripped the plastic water pitcher until my knuckles turned white.

I wouldn't go down without a fight. I had survived the death of my parents. I had survived four years of poverty. I would survive this.

"Hey, Lyra!" Lou yelled from the kitchen. "Turn the TV up, will you? The news is doing a segment on that new high-rise project downtown. The one that’s supposed to bring in the 'big spenders'."

I walked over to the small television hung in the corner. I reached up and turned the dial, the static clearing to reveal a man standing in front of a wall of cameras.

He was wearing a suit that probably cost more than my apartment building.

His dark hair was perfectly styled, and his expression was cold, professional, and entirely closed off.

My heart stopped. The pitcher of water slipped from my hand, hitting the floor with a loud ‘shatter’.

"What the hell, Olson!" Lou barked.

I didn't hear him. I didn't hear the customers complaining about the water splashing their boots.

I only heard the reporter on the screen.

"...and here with us today is the man behind the Kane Empire, Gabriel Kane, discussing his record-breaking divorce settlement and the future of the Kane Plaza..."

Gabriel Kane.

The man from the penthouse wasn't a ghost. He was the king of the city.

And I was carrying his heir.