"-small for being six months. We recommend eating more nutritious food to help with the growth of the baby. Otherwise your pregnancy is going along just fine. You'll be able to schedule an appointment in a few weeks and maybe after that I might no being seeing you again."
"Thank you," I nod grabbing my bag.
"Here," the nurse hand me the sonogram, "don't forget this."
I nod slipping it into my pocket. Everywhere I go nowadays I keep a thick large coat on, I'm scared what people will think, that people might see me. The only people who have seen me without my trusty coat since I started showing was Grace and my nurse.
Not that going outside for me was often. I was scared to bump into a certain person. Scared was an understatement, I didn't know how he'd react, what he'd say. If I leave him in the dark, I won't need to go through the pain of seeing his reaction - watching him walk away.
Crossing the road I headed into the small cafe to buy some treats for Grace and I tonight. Living so close to this small but wonderful bakery was bad for us, I'm sure we've brought someone at least once a week since we moved into our apartment.
Walking up to the counter I look at the fresh pastries that would have been baked this morning. The door opens. Followed by a clang of a metal chair. I turn around, frowning at all the noise one person makes.
"Rosalie."
I look behind me, the boy at the counter shrugs. Me, Rosalie? I don't know this man. "Sit, I need to have a conversation with you."
"I don't know you," I stare at the seat which he know has pulled out. "I'm sorry. I don't.. I should be getting home."
"No," he shakes his head, "you don't know me. But your more than close with my step-son."
"Micah?" I ask, " I haven't seen him in months. I'm not.."
"Please," he shows me the waist and of his pants, showing the silver gun. "Sit, Rosalie."
I nod, taking a seat in the chair. He leans into my arm, "good girl. I understand why Micah has something for you."
"I haven't had any relationship with Micah for months. I have nothing to do with him."
"Well tell me," he sits down, "Why my son is so distracted?"
I try not to stare at the man who holds a gun to my head. He stays out of view if Micah were to open the door. There's a click and then the door pulls open. "Micah," I whisper, starring straight ahead. I stare at him, we've both been in better condition - bruises mark his face and jaw.
"What are you doing here?"
The man beside me, circles his arm around my neck, holding the gun to my forehead. I close my eyes, choking on my tears. "Let her go and I won't kill you."
"Your step-father sent me here to kill her in front of you. That's what I'm here to do. She's a distraction and if she doesn't die today - she'll be in danger by everyone."
A loud bang cascades the area. The hold around my neck becomes loose, the gun clanks to the floor. I scream, sighing this was over. Wishing this never happened. The body falls and hits the pavement. I stare at Micah, no gun in hand or anything.
"Was that a setup?"
I turn on my heels, maybe it's time to go to the police. After everything I've been involved in. Micah's stepfather sent that man for a purpose, he wouldn't have killed him. Micah grabs my wrist, pulling me back, "and where do you think your going?"
"Away from you," I whisper, "let go. I'm going to the police."
"Did you not here? My stepfather will try to kill you."
