A nurse entered, brisk and purposeful. “Mr., uh…” She glanced at the chart in her hand.
“Call me Balthazar. That will suffice.”
She nodded quickly. “Balthazar. Would you mind waiting in the waiting room while we perform some tests and give her blood? Just protocol.”
Would I mind? Of course I did. Every instinct screamed to stay by her side.
“It’s just temporary,” she added gently. “We’ll come get you soon.”
Reluctantly, I left, the baby nestled against my chest—so small, warm, and alive. I looked down at him, and for a fleeting moment, the world narrowed to just us. My son. A miracle in my arms. He filled a hollow space in my heart that I hadn’t known but ached. After so much solitude… so much loss… here he was—pure, perfect, mine.
But then, as I passed the bathroom, something stopped me cold.
The door was ajar—just slightly open.
An eye—just one—stared back at me from the shadowed slit. And then it vanished. The door clicked shut.
A chill shot up my spine.
I barely had time to process the fear before it hit—the baby’s scream, sharp and sudden, cutting through the air like a blade.
“Shhh,” I whispered, gently rocking him, trying to calm us both. But the dread was relentless, coiling tight around my ribs, whispering something was wrong.
Smoke without fire. Footsteps without sound. Danger without form.
I moved faster, clutching my son closer, every step shadowed by the certainty that something malevolent had just set its sights on us.
Chapter 34
Alina
Ever since our return from Iceland—especially after speaking with Lee—the sense of doom had clung to me like a second skin. Each morning, I woke up nauseous, my body aching with exhaustion as if I hadn’t slept. My skin had taken on a pale, almost translucent cast, and rage simmered beneath the surface, bubbling into sudden, uncontrollable outbursts.
Jack kept his distance. Carefully. Quietly. As if sensing I might erupt.
After weeks of vomiting daily and growing sicker by the hour, I finally forced myself to see a doctor. She listened patiently, jotting down notes while I spilled everything. Then she handed me a plastic cup and said, “Go pee in this.”
I blinked at her, stunned. I felt like I was dying—and she wanted a urine sample?
“Just do it, Alina,” she said gently, a knowing smile on her lips. “I think I already know what’s going on.”
I did as she asked, left the cup in the collection window, and returned to the exam room.
When I walked in, she was scribbling something, her eyes trained on her notepad. The silence pressed against me. When she finally looked up, her expression was somber and soft.
“You’re pregnant.”
The words struck me like a blowto the chest.
“What?” My voice faltered, barely audible. The room swayed. Tears welled in my eyes, blurring the edges of everything.
I couldn’t speak—couldn’t even breathe—as a thousand emotions tangled inside me—shock, terror, disbelief.
Pregnant?
I gripped the edge of the exam table. How could this be?
And then it hit me.
