[COMPLETE]
When Hanna Haddad embarks on what's supposed to be another uneventful summer as a lifeguard on Cape Cod, a trip to the past comes as an unnerving surprise. The discovery of her estranged mother's journal opens up the world of tragedy and...
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Stella did not want to tell me what was going on.
Fifteen minutes had passed since I'd first showed up at her house, and every horrible possibility had run through my mind since my panicked drive there. Despite the fact her parents weren't home—actually, they weren't even in the country—she had locked herself in her room and retreated to her windowsill.
Now that sounded bad. Stella wasn't considering jumping out of her second-floor bedroom, just ruminating on the comfortable seat of her bay window. I'd already counted thirteen "oh my gods" and nine "I'm so screweds," and she still hadn't uttered a word about the matter.
So, I took matters into my own hands. Literally.
Kneeling in front of her, I gently grasped both of her forearms and waited until her eyes slid to the right. Despite her rattled state, they were hauntingly dry, almost as if she was feeling so many emotions she'd stopped showing any at all.
"Stella, listen to me. Whatever happened, you can tell me. Given that you're still alive, and you don't have any criminal tendencies—as far as I'm concerned—it can't be that bad...right?"
She let out an airy laugh before her expression blanked again. I was about to give up trying to coax an answer out of her until she straightened up and closed her eyes for a few seconds. When she opened them, her hand slowly inched downwards.
It connected with her lower stomach.
I rose to my feet and took a few shaky steps back. Covering my mouth, I cursed at myself for never having guessed it.
How did it not once cross my mind?
Stella was pregnant.
"I found out this morning," she said, looking at the cherry hardwood. "I could already feel it before I took the pregnancy test. God, there was this nagging feeling inside of me for days. But still, I couldn't look at for almost five minutes. And then, when I finally had the balls to hold it up front of my face, I threw up at the sight of the two red lines. Gonna make a great story to tell the kid, right?"
"Stella, oh my god, I-I—" I was at a loss for words. So many questions whirred through my mind, but only one seemed to matter. "Do you... Do you know who the father is?"
The look on her face said it all. The dead stare, sagging shoulders, slightly parted lips.
"Oh no." I leaned against her desk, gripping the edge with whitened knuckles. "Is there any way it isn't Alexander's?"
She shook her head, swallowing a gulp. "Not a chance in hell."
Words left us for a short while. The only sounds filling the quiet room were the warbles of birds outside her open window and the light June breeze knocking tree branches against the siding of the house. It was a perfect day in every regard, almost deceptively so.
