My breathing became shallow.
Fast.
Uncontrolled.
I stared at the fifth — the last one.
My hands were shaking so badly I nearly dropped it into the sink.
Please.
I forced myself to focus.
I peed again — barely enough for the test to register.
Placed it down.
Waited.
The seconds dragged like punishment.
I picked it up.
Two red lines.
All five.
Positive.
Two months pregnant.
My knees buckled instantly.
I grabbed the edge of the sink to stop myself from collapsing.
My knuckles turned white from the force.
My vision tunneled.
The room tilted slightly.
Dizziness slammed into me again — stronger now.
I slid down the wall slowly until I was sitting on the cold tile floor.
My knees were pulled tightly to my chest.
My head dropped forward.
Breathe.
Just breathe.
In.
Out.
In.
