I wet a dish towel and hand it to her. "Nine weeks is usually when it peaks. It should start getting better in a few weeks."
"Should, being the operative word." She presses the towel to her face. "With Ethan, it lasted until fourteen weeks."
"Sit." I guide her to a chair. "I've got breakfast."
She doesn't argue, which tells me how bad she feels. Emma hates being taken care of, always has. But pregnancy doesn't care about pride.
Ethan's in his high chair, banging a spoon against the tray. "Mama sick?"
"Mama's okay, buddy." I plate his eggs, cutting them into tiny pieces. "Just growing your baby brother or sister."
"Baby!" He shoves eggs in his mouth with his hands, ignoring the spoon entirely.
Emma watches me move around her kitchen. We've had a lot of practice at living together. I spent two years with the Andersons after Mom died, then we ended up as roommates in Pinewood for a few years after that. We know each other's rhythms, the way people do when they've shared space long enough that it becomes second nature.
That was before. When I was whole.
"You don't have to do all this," Emma says. "You're a guest."
"I'm unemployed and staying in your house rent-free. The least I can do is make breakfast."
Unemployed.
The word slips out before I can stop it.
Her eyes sharpen. "Wait. Unemployed? Maya, what happened?"
Fuck.
I turn back to the stove, but there's nowhere to hide in the kitchen. "It's nothing. Budget cuts."
"Budget cuts?" She sounds incredulous. "You're one of the best pediatric nurses at that hospital. They'd be idiots to let you go."
"Well." I force a laugh that sounds hollow even to my ears. "Apparently, they're idiots."
"When did this happen?"
"About two and a half months ago." The timeline makes my stomach turn. Two weeks after I reported the rape. Two weeks of them building a case to fire me while pretending to investigate.
The silence behind me is heavy. I can feel her staring, putting pieces together. The way I showed up unannounced. Everything I own in bags. The fact that I haven't mentioned work once since I arrived.
"Maya. Turn around."
I do, reluctantly. Emma's watching me with that expression I know too well. The one that says she sees straight through my bullshit.
"Is that why you're here? You lost your job?"
"And my apartment. The lease was up. Couldn't afford to renew it without income." I grip the edge of the counter. "I tried to make it work with what money I had, and I was too much of a coward to ask for help. Now I'm out of options."
Emma stands up, crosses the kitchen, and pulls me into a hug. I freeze for a second before hugging her back, my throat tight.
"You're family," she says firmly. "You always have been."
The kindness almost breaks me. I pull away before I start crying.
"It's temporary. I'll find something else soon."
"I'm calling them." Emma's already looking around for her phone. "This is bullshit. What hospital lets go of someone like you because of budget cuts?"
