"He always finds you." I pulled her close. "Come on. Let's open presents."
We spent the next hour on the floor by our little tree. Zara's excitement was infectious, making me laugh despite the tears still threatening. She loved everything, but especially the art supplies.
"These are the good kind," she breathed, running her fingers over the colored pencils. "The kind real artists use."
"You are a real artist."
"Can I draw something for Mr. Sidorov? To say thank you for letting us stay?"
My throat tightened. "I think he'd like that very much."
"Okay!" She jumped up. "I'm going to get dressed and then draw the best picture ever!"
She disappeared into her room, leaving me alone with the boxes from Olek. I picked up the earrings, holding them to the light.
There's a matching ring too.
What did that mean? What was he—no. I couldn't think about it. Not now. Not when I had a house full of guests and a full day of work ahead. I tucked the jewelry back into their boxes and hid them in my dresser drawer. Out of sight. Out of mind.
Or at least I tried.
By 8:30, Zara was dressed and working on her drawing while I headed back to the kitchen to oversee breakfast prep.
"Katrina, perfect timing." Boris gestured to the oven. "Check the sausages, yes? Tell me if they're done."
I opened the oven door, and the smell hit me like a physical blow. Greasy. Overwhelming. Wrong. My stomach lurched.
"I …" I pressed my hand to my mouth. "Excuse me …"
I barely made it to the staff bathroom before I was throwing up, heaving into the toilet until there was nothing left. What the hell? I hadn't eaten anything weird. Hadn't been sick. I felt fine yesterday.
"Katrina?" Elena knocked on the door. "You okay?"
"Fine," I called, flushing. "Something I ate, I think."
"Want me to get you some ginger ale?"
"I'm fine. Really." I rinsed my mouth at the sink, avoiding my reflection. “Can you go help Boris in the kitchen, please?"
I made it through breakfast prep, through the morning present exchange, watching from the edges as Zara played with the other children, through the chaos of people opening gifts and drinking champagne.
Then dinner prep started, and Chef Boris asked me to taste the stuffing.
The smell of sage and onions hit my nose, and I was running for the bathroom again. This time after I finished throwing up, I sat on the floor and forced myself to think. When was the last time I'd had my period? I'd been so busy, so stressed, so wrapped up in Olek that I'd barely noticed – Oh God.
My birth control. I'd been taking it. I had. Every morning. Except there had been a few mornings when I'd overslept. When I'd been so exhausted from nights with Olek that I'd forgotten until later. When I'd taken it at night instead. How many times? Three? Four? Enough. Oh God.
I pulled out my phone with shaking hands and checked the calendar. Six weeks since my last period. Weeks of him finishing inside me, over and over. Two weeks overdue.
No.
But my body was telling me yes. The nausea. The missed period. The exhaustion I'd thought was from spending time with Olek. I needed to know for sure. I waited until the afternoon, when everyone was occupied with pre-dinner activities. Slipped out to the pharmacy three blocks away. Bought three different pregnancy tests with cash.
The staff bathroom felt like a confessional as I locked the door and unwrapped the first test. Three minutes. That's all it took to confirm what I already knew. Pregnant. I took the second test. Positive. The third. Positive.
I sat on the closed toilet lid, staring at the three plastic sticks lined up on the counter, all showing the same result. Pregnant with Olek's baby. I was carrying his child. The man who'd told me he loved me this morning. The man I'd pushed away to protect my heart.
I pressed my hands to my face and tried to breathe. What the hell was I going to do?
