Anya hops up. “Did you get it?”
“Yes. Tell me if they come back.”
I head straight for the bathroom, lock the door, and pull out the first test.
The instructions blur together. My hands shake as I follow them. Then I wait.
Three minutes.The longest three minutes of my life.
The timer on my phone goes off.
I look at the test.
Two pink lines.
Positive.
My legs give out, and I sink to the bathroom floor, staring at the plastic stick that just changed everything.
Maybe it's a false positive. Maybe I did it wrong.
I take the second test. Different brand. Same result.
I'm pregnant. With Maksim's child. No doubt about it.
The mixture of emotions is overwhelming. Terror—how can I bring a child into this world, this danger? Wonder at the thoughtthere's a life growing inside me, created from love even if the timing is terrible. But the crushing, absolute responsibility for this tiny potential person is what makes me feel nauseous.
A knock on the door. "Kira?"
"Just a minute," I manage.
I reach over and unlock the door.
Anya steps inside, and her eyes immediately go to the tests.
"Oh my God," she breathes.
"Yeah." I'm still sitting on the floor. I can't seem to make myself stand.
She closes the door quickly and sinks down beside me on the cold tile.
"You're pregnant."
"Apparently." My laugh sounds hysterical. "Fantastic timing, right? In the middle of a war, hiding from people who want to kill us, and I'm pregnant."
"Does Maksim know?"
"No. And I don't know how to tell him. We've barely figured out how to trust each other again. We're still working through six years of damage. And now I'm supposed to tell him we're having a baby?"
"He'll be happy," Anya says quietly.
"Will he?" I look at her. “How is a baby supposed to fit into this mess?"
"Life doesn't wait for convenient timing."
"Clearly. God, what am I going to do?"
The responsibility feels overwhelming. Not just for my own life anymore—I've been risking that for years. But for the innocent life growing inside me. A child who didn't ask to be conceived in the middle of chaos.