Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 100470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Mom launches at me, her palm cracking against my cheek before I can even register her quick movement.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” she demands, tears streaming down her face. “Your baby will have problems. Birth defects. That is, if it even makes it that far.”
Her words stab hard just as she intended.
“You can’t scare me,” I growl. “Not only are you a hypocrite, but you’re a liar. You married your own father and had a million babies with him!” I motion at the slew of kids in the cabin. “We’re all fine, Mom! Your lies about what could happen fall on deaf ears!”
Dad speaks up, his voice deceptively calm. “Where’d you hear this bullshit?”
“Wild.” I cross my arms over my chest. “He said he overheard you and his dad talking about it. The cat’s out of the bag. Everyone knows.”
“You, child, are so clueless about how things are,” Mom croaks out. “You think you know everything, but you know nothing. You’re stubborn and reckless.”
“I know that my baby will be fine,” I state with a smirk. “Yours all turned out okay.”
Declan runs over to me, clinging to my leg. I stroke his hair because I need the comfort as much as he does.
Dad sits on the bed and sets Dawson down, who immediately crawls over to Kota. Mom’s tears haven’t stopped. Her shoulders are hunched as if she’s tired with defeat.
Good.
I’ll win this round with her.
Fighting for the ones I love and my little baby is worth all this drama.
Mom lifts her gaze to meet mine and real fear shines in her eyes. I shift uncomfortably, unease making my stomach recoil.
“Raegan, sweetie,” Mom says, her bottom lip wobbling. “He’s not my father by blood.”
Heat burns up my throat and settles on my cheeks. “What?”
“He adopted me. You kids are fine because our blood isn’t…the same.” Her eyes drop to my stomach and more tears spill out. “But you? Yours is the same. The child will be…”
No.
That can’t be.
Images of a mutant baby with extra body parts or half a brain assault me. Is it really something that happens when you share blood?
“Aunt Eve’s babies,” Mom whispers. “The ones who died. They were all pregnancies from her brothers.”
I take a step back, unlatching myself from Declan. My legs are shaky, forcing me to sit down on the sofa. Everything spins around me.
The babies from her brothers died.
Hurt, unlike anything I’ve ever felt, stabs at every angle of my heart. Something I was just starting to get excited about has been torn from me. All hope is lost.
My baby might die.
“And if the baby doesn’t abort itself,” Mom says softly, “we may need to go to town and…”
I search her face and then look at Dad, who won’t meet my stare.
“The doctors,” I breathe, chest filling with hope again. “They’ll fix it. They can fix the baby.”
Mom gives a sharp shake of her head. “No, Raegan. They can’t.”
“Then why go to town? Dad? Why won’t you look at me?” I choke back a sob as I watch my father scrub a palm over his face, still unable to look at me.
“They have doctors in town who can remove the baby,” Mom says finally, voice hardening. “It’s called an abortion.”
“Where does the baby go? Can they help it?” Hysteria is clawing at my throat once more. “Can I hold it when it comes out?”
“No.” Mom swallows and swipes at a tear. “They remove it from your body, ending its existence since it’s probable it won’t be a viable fetus.”
Ending its existence?
“You mean murder?” I ask, completely dumbfounded by her words. “You want them to murder my baby?”
I clutch my stomach, gaping in horror.
Mom sighs heavily. “It’s not murder. It’s an abortion. It’s legal and common in town.”
“No,” I say with a shriek. “I will not let them kill my baby!”
“Raegan,” Dad grunts, finally looking at me. “Calm down. We’re going to figure this out.”
“Figure this out? There’s nothing to figure out! No one is killing my baby!”
Mom purses her lips and her eyes harden with determination. I know the look. It’s the same one she gets when she has an idea she wants Dad to build or when she makes some sort of family decision. It’s the look that means it will happen whether I like it or not.
“I won’t go,” I spit out, shuddering with fear and disgust. “I won’t willingly allow you to do that to me.”
“And what happens when it comes out all wrong?” Mom demands. “What if it has medical needs that we can’t handle out here? Believe me, it’s much easier to deal with the loss before you can see or hold the baby.”
Mom starts toward me and I lean back against the cushions, shaking my head. “Don’t touch me, murderer!”
She shivers and then retreats. “Reed, I’m going to the root cellar. Deal with this child. I need a minute.”