“Becki.”
She steps out from the edge of the hallway with one hand on her stomach and the other pressed against the wall like she needs it to stay upright. Her face is pale. Too pale. The sharpness she usually wears like lipstick has cracked wide open, and underneath it’s fear.
Not for herself.
For Sophie.
For the baby inside her.
For some old ghost I already know by name.
My stomach drops.
No.
Not now.
Not this.
Sophie turns, her anger still hot on her face. “Becki?”
Becki looks at me first.
Her eyes are huge.
Wet.
Sorry.
I give my head one small shake.
Don’t.
Royal moves toward her. “Love.”
Becki’s mouth trembles. “I can’t.”
The room goes still.
Sophie looks between us. “Can’t what?”
Becki’s hand tightens over her stomach. “I’m sorry.”
Sophie’s anger falters, replaced by confusion. “Why are you apologizing to me?”
Becki looks at me again.
This time, I don’t shake my head.
I just stare at her, because every version of this ends bloody now. Maybe not with fists. Maybe not with bodies. But something is about to bleed.
Becki’s voice breaks. “Because he lied to you.”
Sophie goes very still.
Not soft.
Not confused anymore.