“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
I think about Angela. About the man whose baby I’m carrying. About two swords crossing in an emblem made of gold and stained with blood. It feels like there’s so much information swirling around in my head that I can hardly keep track of everything I’m feeling.
“So many reasons I can’t count them,” I admit in a tired mumble.
Sara’s eyebrows furrow down. “Stress isn’t good for the baby, June,” she advises. “Your vitals are good for now, but if there’s something that’s weighing on you—
“I don’t belong here, Sara.”
She stops short. The concern in her eyes deepens. “I was under the impression that you were happy here,” she says diplomatically. “You seemed to be. For the last few weeks, at least.”
I place my hand over my stomach, disa
