I didnotremember. But suddenly I understood. “You’re infertile.”
Tabitha flinched.
“You can’t have a baby of your own, so you’re going to take mine.”
“Assuming it’s human,” she admitted. “That was the deal. I agreed to safeguard your pregnancy—I gave you vitamins and exercise, and I took you off the menu for full-contact engagements.”
The fact that there was such a roster and the fact that I’d been on it horrified me in equal parts. How often had I been scheduled? How many possibilities were there for my child’s paternity?
“...and you agreed to keep the pregnancy hidden until we know the baby’s species. If it’s human, Willem and I will raise it.”
“Tabitha.”Vandekamp looked dumbfounded and livid.
I shook my head. “I would never agree to that.” Unless she’d given me no choice. Whatwouldn’tI have agreed to, to keep my baby alive?
But neither of them were looking at me anymore.
“You promised me a baby ten years ago,” she said. “But it’s obvious that this project is your baby, and I need more than that.”
He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Tabitha, this project—the bill, the collars, all of it—is for us. For the baby we’ll have someday.”
“Then you better work fast, because someday’s coming in seven months.”
My teeth refused to unclench, so I spoke through them. “You can’t have my baby.”
She shrugged out of her husband’s grip and turned on me. “You should be grateful. I’m giving your baby a chance at a real life. He’ll have real parents who can give him everything. Who can shower him with love and opportunity. Even if we were to let you keep him, what would you have to offer the poor child? Chains? Scraps of clothing and food?” She turned back to her husband. “If the baby is human, we’re keeping it. You made me a promise, and you’re damn well going to come through, or I will bring all of this crumblingright down on your head.” Her spread arms seemed to indicate the Savage Spectacle, and everything within it.
He exhaled slowly, and I heard resignation in the sound. “When will we know if it’s human?”
“Amniocentesis is risky before the twelfth week, and if the ultrasound is right, she’s just now eight weeks along.”
“She’s had an ultrasound?”
“At six weeks,” Tabitha said, and my head spun. No wonder the basement lab had felt so familiar, even though I had no conscious memory of it. “Everything looked fine, but you can’t tell much that early.”
“Okay,” he said. “Just promise me you won’t get your hopes up until we know for sure.”
Her smile made me want to vomit. “I promise to try.”
It doesn’t matter. Let them think what they want, if that keeps the baby alive.I wouldn’t be at the Spectacle long enough to give birth.
“Who else knows about this?” he asked.
“Just me and Dr. Grantham,” Tabitha said. “And Delilah.”
Dr. Grantham. Not Dr. Hill, of the sliced open belly.
Vandekamp frowned. “Now Michael Pagano knows, as well. Tabitha, if Grantham finds out what Delilah did to Hill, he’ll refuse to treat her.”
“Well then, we won’t tell—”
“Whose is it?” I sounded just as stunned as I felt. “Who’s the father?”
They looked at me. Then they turned back to each other, and the look that passed between them chilled me all the way to my bone marrow.
“You rented me out.” I hadn’t truly believed it until that moment. Despite the evidence occupying my womb, deep down, I’d been convinced that if it had happened, I’d remember on some level. “How many times?”
“Call Dr. Grantham and let’s get another checkup,” Vandekamp said, and I realized he wasn’t going to answer.
