She asks gentle questions I deflect with vague answers about low blood sugar and not eating enough.
I can feel her worried gaze on me at every stoplight, but she doesn’t push.
Just promises to hold my position at the bakery until I’m feeling better, tells me to take care of myself, and makes me promise to call if I need anything.
I find them in the parish hall, the three of them gathered around a table covered in documents.
Probably more evidence against Whitmore, more strategies for surviving the Bishop’s investigation.
They look up when I enter, and the moment they see my face, everything else stops.
Adrian’s gray eyes sharpen with immediate concern.
Marcus straightens from where he’s been leaning over the table, his tattooed arms tensing.
Elijah’s heavenly face goes pale, his blue eyes widening.
“Charlie?” Adrian’s voice is rough with worry. “What’s wrong?”
I can’t do this here. Can’t say the words that will shatter everything in a space where anyone could walk in. “I need to talk to you. All of you. Privately.”
They exchange weighted glances, and I watch understanding dawn that this is serious.
Adrian leads the way to his quarters, Marcus and Elijah following close behind.
I bring up the rear, my legs unsteady, my heart hammering so hard I’m sure they can hear it.
Adrian’s quarters feel too small for the four of us and the bomb I’m about to detonate.
I stand in the center of the room while they arrange themselves around me.
Adrian stands by the window, his broad shoulders blocking the afternoon light.
Marcus leans against the desk, his dark eyes tracking every tremor running through my body.
Elijah perches on the edge of the bed, his lean frame coiled with tension.
They’re all watching me with growing concern, and I can see them cataloging details.
The way my hands won’t stop shaking.
The pallor of my skin.
The fact that I’m still wearing my bakery clothes, flour dusting my jeans.
I force myself to meet their eyes, to not look away like a coward. They deserve the truth, no matter how devastating.
“I collapsed at work this morning.” The words come out steadier than I feel. “They took me to the hospital. Ran tests.”
Adrian moves closer instinctively, his hand rising toward my face before he catches himself.
The aborted gesture makes my chest ache. Even now, even in private, we’re so careful about touching. “Are you okay? What happened?”
I take a breath that feels like it might be my last. “I’m pregnant.”
The silence that follows is deafening. I watch the words land, see them process what I’ve said. Adrian goes completely still, his gray eyes widening.
Marcus’s face drains of color, his arms dropping to his sides.
