Semua Bab Pregnant With My Stepbrother’s Child: Bab 91 - Bab 97

EVELYN “My celebrity best friend,” Trina said, hopping beside me like a caffeinated rabbit in a romper with her smile so wide it looked like her cheeks might split open.I blinked at her, narrowing my eyes the way one might when encountering a wild animal you weren't sure was friendly or feral. “Oh God, what now?” I muttered, bracing myself.Because Trina, bless her glossy, hyperactive, and drama-infused soul, was never just saying things. She was bringing things. Fresh gossip and gist. TikToks that should be illegal. You could never predict what fresh madness she was riding in on. It could be anything from ‘Guess who just DMed me?’ to ‘A celebrity going viral on a Filipino wedding page.’ Even to her new fuckmate.And her tone? That sugary and suspiciously supportive voice she used only when she was about to detonate a bomb and smile through the flames.She waved her phone like it was a trophy. “I love people who fight for what they want,” she read out dramatically, swiping through t

EVELYN It had been over a month since I had the abortion done and yet here I was, standing in front of my bathroom mirror, feeling as if the world had changed direction on its axis. My body didn’t make sense anymore. I shouldn’t be bleeding.I wasn’t sure what was going on or why my body had betrayed me like this. The blood kept coming and going, fluctuating, like the dead battery of a broken clock. One moment it was light, almost insignificant, and the next, it was as if my body couldn’t contain it anymore.Yes, I know what you’re probably thinking maybe I was menstruating. That had been my first thought, too. I expected it. But this wasn’t normal. It didn’t feel normal. It was too much and too thick. Today, I had a blood clot. A large, dark clot, heavy and undeniable. It wasn’t just a little bit of blood; it was like I had spilled my entire body’s worth of it onto the bed. I couldn’t stop looking at the stain, knowing it was the evidence of something I couldn’t understand. My stom

EVELYN “What did you just say happened to Mike’s dad?” I snapped, slicing into their conversation like a knife I didn’t even know I had picked up. My voice pierced and I bet it rang in their ears like a bell. Or like I was dragging my voice across broken glass just to find one clean answer.Dad’s eyes darted toward Mom’s with something I recognized before they even moved with pain. That silent Morse code they used when they thought I was too little to read between the lines but I could. Even half-asleep, I’d recognize that kind of look. The way Mom’s face dropped ever so slightly, her jaw tightening but not enough to seem obvious. The way Dad wouldn’t meet my eyes. I could read their eye language like subtitles in a foreign film I never wanted to watch.“Princess,” Mom started, voice barely above a whisper like the truth would hurt less if you said it soft. “We don’t want you to blame yourself…”That one sentence sounded like a red flag. You don’t start sentences like that unless th