There it is—the little flicker of life I was hoping for. The brightness comes back, the dullness recedes, and Polly straightens just a little bit taller. “I… I can’t believe it.”
“Trust me—I couldn’t either at first.”
She’s looking more like herself now. The arch of her eyebrows has that old streak of mischievousness. “Does he know?”
“No. I was serious: you’re the first person I’ve told.”
“That was your trump card, huh?”
She nods slowly. “I’m going to be an aunt.”
“Being an aunt requires both of us to get out of here in one piece,” I remind her. “We’re made of stronger stuff than they think we are, Polly. We can fight them. We can get out of here. I will have this baby and you’re going to be the best aunt.”
She’s looking a little teary-eyed again, but I’m pretty sure these are the g
