Chapter 13

Nikita stood to go find the doctor, but Latisha grabbed her arm, stopping her.

"You... you're not thinking of keeping it, are you?" Nikita asked, bewildered. "Why would you have that bastard's baby?"

Latisha shook her head, her fingers forming the words. *He won't want it.*

"Then what's the problem? Let's just take care of it."

Latisha's hands moved stiffly. *I want it.*

"Why?"

*It's mine.*

Nikita was silent for a moment, then sat back down.

She was right. The baby wasn't just Clifford's; it was Latisha's, too. Latisha had no one. Even her own husband didn't care for her. She yearned for a family, for someone who was truly her own.

Nikita reached out and stroked her cheek. "Then you'll have it," she said softly. "And if you need help, I'll help you raise it.”

Her words brought tears to Latisha's eyes. She looked at Nikita, at the bandage on her head, and the genuine compassion in her eyes. She had never imagined someone would be willing to go to such lengths for her.

"Don't cry," Nikita whispered. "You'll make the baby sad."

Latisha swallowed the lump in her throat and managed a small smile. She nodded. In that moment, she knew what she had to do. She had to divorce Clifford. It was the only way to protect her child.

She remembered her last pregnancy. She had naively thought that showing them the positive test would change everything, that Clifford might even start to love her a little.

But reality had been a brutal slap in the face. Clifford had tossed the paper onto the sofa as if it were a piece of trash. Her heart had plummeted with it. He had rubbed his temples and called it "a nuisance."

Not a baby. Not a life. A nuisance.

Polly had been even worse, holding her down while a doctor administered the anesthetic. When she woke up, she was alone in a cold, empty room, with an even emptier womb.

She spent the morning at the

hospital. By the afternoon, her fever had broken. Nikita went with her for

a full checkup. The pregnancy was a bit precarious, but otherwise, everything seemed normal.

"You need to be very careful in the first trimester," the doctor warned her sternly.

"This is one resilient fetus. Don't push your luck."

Latisha knew what she was referring to and blushed, nodding meekly.

She left the hospital with a bag full

get

of prenatal vitamins and other prescriptions. The sky, washed clean by the rain, was a brilliant blue For the first time in a long time she looked up.

She had been so focused on her small, gray world that she had forgotten how vast and beautiful the sky was.

Killian ended up driving her home. When they arrived at her house, she typed a message on her phone and showed it to him.

*Mr. Stafford, please keep my pregnancy a secret.*

He read the message, then looked at her, his expression unreadable.

"You have my word," he said finally.

She nodded her thanks and got out of the car.

Back inside, she hid the

prescriptions in the table drawer and took out the ultrasound picture. It was just a small grainy shape but as she traced it with her finger, a smile bloomed on her face

From now on, she had a reason to live.

"What are you looking at?"

A deep voice from behind her made her jump.