Chapter 2

I did not sleep at all that night.

I sat on the thin mattress in the little room behind the laundry and read the message again and again until the words stopped looking like words.

*Don't drink anything they give you in the morning. And don't sign. They lied to you about Eleanor's stroke. — E.*

Who was E? How did they know my number? And what did they mean about Eleanor?

I thought about her face the last time I saw her in the care home. Her mouth hung down on one side. Her eyes followed me around the room like she was trying to tell me something. I had cried in the car that day. I told myself it was just the stroke.

Now I wasn't sure of anything.

I put my hand on my stomach. It was still flat and soft, and nobody would ever guess. But I knew. And Margaret wanted to take it away from me before I even had a chance to love it.

"I won't let them," I whispered into the dark. "Do you hear me, baby? I won't let them."

I didn't know how. I didn't know anything. But I said it anyway, because somebody had to make a promise to this child.

The sky outside the small window turned gray, then pink, then white. I heard the cooks come in. I heard the coffee machine. I heard Tessa laughing somewhere upstairs.

At eight o'clock exactly, someone knocked on my door.

---

Margaret walked in first. She wore a cream suit and pearl earrings, and she smelled like expensive flowers. Behind her came a tall man with gray hair and a brown leather bag. He smiled at me like a kind grandfather.

Behind him came Maria, the youngest maid, carrying a small tray. On the tray was a tall glass of something orange.

"Good morning, Ivy," Margaret said. Her voice was soft, much too soft. "This is Dr. Hale. He's our family doctor. It's just a small check before you sign today. The contract asks for it. Nothing to worry about."

"Good morning, young lady." Dr. Hale shook my hand. His hand was cold and dry. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes," I lied.

"Good, good." He nodded at the tray. "I brought you a vitamin drink. You look a little pale. Drink up while I get ready."

Maria held the tray out to me. Her hands were shaking a little. She didn't look at my face.

I took the glass. It was cold. It smelled like oranges and something else, something sour under the sweetness.

*Don't drink anything they give you.*

My heart was beating so hard I was sure everyone in the room could hear it.

"Go on, dear," Margaret said. She was watching me over her coffee cup. She didn't blink.

I lifted the glass to my lips and let the drink touch them, but I didn't open my mouth. I didn't swallow. My hand was shaking so badly that a little ran down my chin.

Then Margaret's phone rang.

She looked at the screen and frowned. "I have to take this. It's the florist." She turned to the window. Dr. Hale bent over his bag, looking for something.

There was a small plant in the corner, a sad green fern that nobody ever watered except me.

I poured half the glass into its pot. Quickly and quietly. Then I wiped my chin and put the glass back on the tray.

Maria saw me.

Our eyes met for one second. My stomach dropped. If she said anything, I was finished.

But Maria only picked up the tray, turned around, and walked out of the room without a word.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

---

"Now," Dr. Hale said, holding out a small plastic cup. "Just a simple test. The bathroom is right there."

My legs felt heavy as I walked. I closed the bathroom door and leaned against it. In the mirror, a girl with red eyes and messy hair looked back at me. She looked so young and scared.

I wanted my mother. I hadn't wanted her this badly since I was twelve and she was gone.

I did the test and came back out. Dr. Hale dipped a white strip into the cup and set it on a paper towel on the table. Margaret came closer. The three of us stood there and waited.

One line came first.

Then, slowly, a second line.

Two lines. Pink and clear, just like in the gas station.

I couldn't breathe.

Dr. Hale looked at the strip for a long time. Then he looked up at Margaret. Something passed between them, a look so small that I almost missed it.

Then he picked up the strip, folded it into the paper towel, and dropped it into his bag.

"Negative," he said with a smile. "She's not pregnant."

The room went quiet.

"Well," Margaret said, and she smiled too. It was the happiest I had ever seen her. "That's good news for everyone, isn't it, Ivy?"

I stared at the bag where my baby's truth was hidden.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout, *Liar! I saw it! I saw the lines!* I wanted to grab that bag and run.

But I looked at Margaret's smile and I understood something that made my blood turn to ice.

If I said I was pregnant, they would not let me leave this house with this baby. Not alive.

So I said nothing. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, and I nodded.

"Yes," I whispered. "Good news."

---

At noon, they called me to the dining room.

Mr. Grant, the lawyer, sat at the long table with a pile of papers and a gold pen. Margaret sat at the head of the table. Tessa sat beside her, eating an apple. Sabrina stood behind Margaret's chair in a pale pink dress, her hand resting on Margaret's shoulder like she already belonged to this family.

Gabriel's chair was empty.

"Where is Gabriel?" I asked.

"He had an early meeting," Margaret said. "He said there was no need for him to be here."

No need.

One year of marriage. One night when he held me and said he didn't want to be alone. And there was no need for him to be here to say goodbye.

It shouldn't have hurt. I knew who he was. But it hurt so much I had to hold the back of the chair.

Mr. Grant turned the papers toward me. "Mrs. Stone, please sign here, here and here. Once you sign, the money will be sent to your account within the hour."

He held out the gold pen.

I looked down at the papers. There was a small line near the bottom that I had never seen before.

*The wife confirms she is not pregnant and gives up any claim for any child, now or in the future.*

My hand went to my stomach before I could stop it.

*And don't sign.*

"Ivy," Margaret said sharply. "We're waiting."

I took a deep breath. My voice came out small, but it came out.

"No."

Tessa stopped chewing.

"Excuse me?" Margaret said.

"I'm not signing." I pushed the papers back across the table. My hands were shaking, but I didn't take them back. "Not today."

Sabrina laughed, a little high laugh. "Is she serious?"

Mr. Grant looked at Margaret, unsure.

Margaret stood up very slowly. Her chair scraped on the marble floor. She walked around the table until she was standing right in front of me. She was so close I could smell her coffee.

"You ungrateful little nobody," she said quietly. "We fed you. We dressed you. We let you sleep under our roof. And this is how you thank us?"

I didn't move. I didn't cry.

She smiled again. This time it was not happy at all.

"Fine," she said. "Then you leave this house with nothing. Starting now."

She snapped her fingers.

Two security men came in from the hallway. One grabbed my arm. The other picked up my two black trash bags from the laundry room door.

"Let go of me!" I pulled hard, but his hand was like iron.

They dragged me through the kitchen. The cooks stopped working and stared. Maria stood by the sink with her hand over her mouth.

They pushed me out the back door. The rain was falling hard now, cold and gray. My bags landed in a puddle next to my feet.

The door slammed shut behind me.

I stood there in the rain in my thin shirt, shaking and soaking wet, with my hand pressed against my stomach.

Then I remembered.

My coat.

My old brown coat was still hanging on the hook behind the laundry room door.

And the pregnancy test from the gas station was still in its pocket.