“And if her iron levels have dropped, she might be on supplements which can make the nausea worse.”
“Pregnancy?” I cut in sharply.
Jessica looks at me like it’s obvious. “Yes.”
“That’s it,” Catherine breathes, her eyes widening. “That’s what I was trying to place. She had that peaky look about her.”
“No,” I say immediately. “It’s a hangover. She said she’s been out drinking most nights.”
“Then that won’t be helping her condition,” Jessica mutters disapprovingly.
“She isn’t pregnant,” I snap, the words coming out harder than I intend.
Jessica doesn’t flinch. “Before I became a nanny, I was a midwife,” she says calmly. “And I know what I’m looking at.”
Silence crashes into the room. My mind replays it all in brutal flashes. The nausea. The way she looked. The weight loss. The dizziness.
“Fuck,” I breathe.
Catherine’s hand flies to her mouth. “Ray . . .”
I don’t wait. I grab my jacket and head straight for the door, my heart hammering so hard, it drowns everything else out.
“Ray,” Catherine calls after me.
I’m already pulling my phone out.
“Security,” I bark as soon as they answer. “Stop Wynter leaving. Now.”
I don’t wait for confirmation. I’m already running for the lift.
WYNTER
“What the hell is this about?” I snap, yanking against the grip on my arm. “I haven’t stolen this. Ray gave it to me,” I add, holding up the jewellery box.
The security guard doesn’t even look at me.
I spot Ray running towards us. He looks pale and shaken, and I wander what could have happened in the last ten seconds.
“Thank god,” I breathe. “Can you tell this idiot I didn’t steal it?”
Ray barely glances at the guard. “I told him to stop you,” he says.
My stomach drops. “What?”
“I need to ask you something.”
Before I can argue, he takes my arm and pulls me away from the security staff, and out onto the street where the noise of traffic fills the silence between us.
Then he stops and turns to me, his eyes dropping to the jewellery box. He gently takes it from my hands, then continues to stare at my stomach.
I step back. “Okay, you’re freaking me out. What’s wrong?”
“Are you pregnant?” he asks.
I blink, then follow his gaze down my body. “What?”
“Jessica said you are,” he presses. “Are you?”
