I didn't know what to feel. It was as if the world had stopped spinning. Everything around me moved in slow motion. Why was this happening? No... this was impossible. It wasn't time yet. What about Andreis? What would he think? What would he say?
My chest ached, and my hands trembled uncontrollably. This wasn't something simple. If I was really pregnant, this would be a responsibility we would carry for the rest of our lives. How did this happen? It couldn't be... not now—not when we were about to face a battle. Against Zevian. If there was even a chance I was carrying a child, I had to be careful. I couldn't afford to be harmed. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, racing one after another without end.
I lay down on the bed, curling into myself, arms wrapped tightly as if trying to comfort my own trembling heart. Marco's hoodie hugged me with its familiar scent, a small piece of warmth in the storm.
Something didn't feel right. My body was different. My emotions sat just beneath the surface, threatening to overflow. I couldn't focus. A dull, persistent anxiety pressed against my chest, like I was waiting for something to snap.
I didn't know how long I'd been lying there. Time had melted away. When I finally glanced out the window, the world outside had already turned to night. The quiet hum of evening filled the air—the chirping of crickets, the creak of wood settling in the old farmhouse. My fingers clutched the hoodie tighter, a new wave of unease rising in me.
I sat up. The room was cloaked in that distinct hush only midnight could bring. Moonlight poured through the half-open window, casting silvery shadows across my walls. I rubbed my hands together, feeling a jittery restlessness in my bones. I checked the time: 8:00 PM.
No wonder KC and Mom had knocked several times earlier, asking me to eat. I hadn't responded. They must've assumed I was asleep.
I picked up my phone and called Max.
She answered on the third ring, her voice groggy. "Mia?"
"I'm sorry it's late," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I just... I think I might be pregnant."
There was a pause.
"Stay there. I'm coming."
The line went dead.
I remained motionless in the silence, my breath shallow, until I heard the creak of my bedroom door.
"Mia?" Max called softly.
"I'm here," I murmured.
I shifted to sit on the edge of my bed, leaning against the headboard.
Max rushed in moments later, breathless. She wore jeans and an oversized sweatshirt, her hair tousled from sleep. Her cheeks were flushed, her face tinged with worry. She smelled of fresh air, citrus shampoo, and barely hidden panic.
"I brought tests," she said, pulling two boxes from her tote bag. It looked like she had gone out to buy them just for me. "We're doing this together."
I stared at the boxes in her hands, frozen. Then, the tears came—unexpected, overwhelming. I wasn't even sure if it was from fear, anxiety, or something else entirely.
We walked into the bathroom. The cold tiles sent a shiver up my spine. A lavender candle flickered softly from the counter—a forgotten flame from earlier. The mirror reflected our pale, anxious faces. Hers tense, mine haunted.
My fingers fumbled as I opened the box and followed the instructions. Everything felt surreal, like I was floating outside of my body. Max helped me place the test on the counter and then wrapped her arms around me as I sat on the edge of the tub.
"Ten minutes," she whispered, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Each second stretched endlessly.
I thought of Andreis. Of his eyes. His voice. What would he say? What would he feel? Could he accept this?
And what about everything else? The looming threat of Zevian. My 25th birthday. My transformation. The war we were about to face.
I tried to breathe deeply, but the air felt too thin. My chest tightened with every beat of my heart, each fear louder than the last.
Max gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I'll wait outside. You do better with space. Call me if you need me. I'll be right here."
She stepped out quietly, leaving me alone with the hum of the bathroom light and the thunderous pounding of my heart.
I stood, legs heavy. My breath hitched as I approached the sink.
I looked.
Two lines.
Positive.
The world tilted. I reached for the sink to steady myself. My eyes welled with tears, my throat closing in shock.
No. This was real. This was happening.
I opened the door slowly, the test trembling in my hand.
Max turned. Her eyes locked on mine.
I couldn't speak.
She didn't wait. She rushed forward and wrapped her arms tightly around me.
We both cried. For the fear. For the joy. For everything unknown.
She held me like I was fragile and strong all at once. We sat on the edge of my bed, her arms still around me, her presence anchoring me to the moment.
"Maybe it's fate," she whispered. "Maybe this baby is part of something bigger. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise."
I didn't respond. My thoughts were too loud. My heart too full. My future too uncertain.
But one thing was clear.
I was going to be a mother.
And in just one week... I would turn twenty-five.
Everything was about to change.