Hailey collapsed onto the guest bed, curling into a fetal position under a mountain of blankets, staring blankly at the wall. I sat on the edge of the mattress, rhythmically stroking her damp hair until exhaustion finally dragged her into a restless sleep.
But sleep was an impossibility for me. I wandered out to the dimly lit kitchen at two in the morning. Amanda was sitting at the island, two mugs of untouched tea between us.
“What happened?” she whispered, sliding a mug toward me.
My throat tight, I forced the horrors into the open. “She’s pregnant, Amanda. And it wasn’t a choice.”
Amanda inhaled sharply, pressing her hands over her face. “Dear God.”
“She won’t say the name, but…” My voice broke, a jagged sob tearing from my chest. “It’s Mark. I know it is. I’ve been so blind.”
Amanda stood up, walked around the counter, and held me tightly as I shattered into a million pieces against her shoulder. We stayed like that for hours, wrapped in the quiet dread of the impending dawn. Tomorrow, the authorities would be involved. Tomorrow, the fragile illusion of my life would be publicly incinerated.
