“What the fuck?”
“Sorry!” Maisie gasps as her glasses slip. “I’m so sorry, but you can’t take that.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because you’re…” She gasps softly and straightens up. “I’m sorry, Faina, but you’re pregnant and that medication isn’t good for you.”
What?
Pregnant?
No way.
“Are you sure?” I gape at her. “I mean, I’m forty-three years old. I’m pretty sure that’s past my prime.”
“It’s not uncommon.” Maisie smiles. “I take it you didn’t know?”
Both my hands wrap around the bottle and I stare down at the shimmering liquid. “I had no idea. I didn’t think I could anymore. They say if you don’t have kids by the time you’re thirty then it’s pointless, right?”
Maisie rolls her eyes. “It’s not pointless, but I understand what you mean. Pregnancy at your age is dangerous and delicate but not impossible.”
Pregnant.
It doesn’t even sound like a real word.
Pregnant.
Oh, no. Cian.
He’s the only man I’ve slept with in the past six months and I was reckless with it because I thought I was too old for anything like this. Clearly, I was wrong.
“So I’m not unwell. It’s just morning sickness?”
Maisie nods. “Yes. I can get you onto some other medication that will help you and your baby.”
“I can’t afford that,” I say. “I mean I thought the anti-nausea stuff would be cheap, but pregnancy meds?”
“Faina, we don’t charge here for that. And given how little you’ve eaten and the stress you’re under, then I insist.” She pauses and clasps her hands together while leaning back against the desk. “Are you alright?”
“It… It’s not a word I ever thought I would hear. I mean… I’m so past that stage in my life.” Never mind my current goal of getting Cian out of here and killing Hawk. I don’t have time for a baby, not right now.
Will Cian be angry with me? We’ve only just acknowledged that feelings for one another still exist, and now I have to deliver such huge news.
If I ever see him again.
The nurse gives me some different medication and a couple of injections, then she sends me back to my cell with instructionson being careful. Thankfully, the following days pass without much pain in the nausea department due to the medication she gives me and I’m finally able to get some decent rest which clears up my brain fog. Just as I settle into working out a real plan to get out of here, Richard comes to see me again.
“Miss Trutneva.”
“Please, I’m your prisoner,” I remark darkly. “There’s no need for formalities.”
He keeps his distance, perhaps afraid I’ll lunge at him and claw his eyes out. “On your feet. There’s something I want you to see.”
“Is it yard time?” I mock as a cop hauls me to my feet and locks my wrists in handcuffs. “Am I going to see the sky?”
Richard doesn’t reply. He leads the way out of my cell and down a long corridor to a room at the far end. It’s small and dark with a couple of stools, some recording equipment and a large window that looks into an interrogation room similar to the one Richard held me in.
“Cian!” The second I see him pacing in that room, I lunge away from my captor and toward the window. “Cian!”
