Chapter 4

As Ethan dragged me upstairs, my knees knocked against every step with a sound.

Passing the master bedroom, his steps paused.

Then he kicked open the storage room door next to it and shoved me inside.

"Ethan --"

I reached out to stop him.

The door closed. The lock turned.

The storage room was small, filled with a few dusty cardboard boxes and a folding chair.

No light. The only source was a half-open window in the corner, moonlight streaming in, illuminating floating dust.

Through the wall, Natalie's voice came first: "Ethan, is she right next door?"

Ethan's voice came through muffled: "Don't worry about her."

Natalie laughed: "Good. Let her listen carefully to who really knows how to please you."

I hit the wall a few times.

Next door went quiet for a second or two.

Then Natalie laughed: "Ethan, Claire's keeping time for us."

I covered my ears.

But the sounds still leaked through.

Laughter, gasping, the dull sound of the bed frame being pressed.

Ethan's hands that once put fever patches on me were now touching someone else through the wall.

He who once told me "don't die for people who aren't worth it" was now calling another woman's name.

The cramping in my lower abdomen grew stronger with each wave.

I curled up in the corner, hand pressed to my stomach, the sticky area under my clothes still spreading.

I searched my pockets and only found a crumpled prenatal report.

Ethan had pulled it from my bag and thrown it on the ground. I'd picked it up again when I left.

I couldn't make out the words in the darkness.

But that line -- "intrauterine early pregnancy, approximately four weeks" -- I'd already memorized.

Four weeks.

That's when the heart just starts to beat.

Next door went quiet for a while.

Then Natalie's voice came lazily, like she was deliberately speaking for me to hear:

"Ethan, after this is over, should I have your baby?"

"Mm."

"Let's clean out that storage room next door for a nursery."

"Okay."

"What about Claire?"

"She can stay if she wants. If she can't take it, she can leave on her own."

Natalie laughed: "You're so good to me, Ethan."

Next door went silent again.

I released my hand. My fingertips were covered in sweat.

My lower abdomen didn't hurt as much anymore.

Looking down at the dark stain on my pants, I couldn't tell if it was red or black in the moonlight, but the area had grown larger than before.

The baby might already be gone.

I turned my head toward the window.

It was raining outside, hitting the windowsill, a few drops splashing in and landing on the back of my hand.

Cold.

Just as cold as standing on that rooftop five years ago.

That time Ethan had grabbed my hand.

I looked at the tightly closed door.

No footsteps behind it.

No one was coming.

I braced myself against the wall and stood up, something warm trickling down my knee.

Three floors outside the window. Not very high.

But enough.

I climbed onto the windowsill. Rain hit my face.

Next door came Natalie's blurred sleep talk, Ethan's even breathing coming through the wall.

They were both asleep.

I could sleep forever too...