Miguel looked awful. It wasn’t just the exhaustion around his eyes, but the harrowed expression on his face. His skin was pale and his lips were cracked and dry. He sat on the edge of his bed and stared blankly at Dominic as he entered the room.

“I’m sorry, I came as soon as I could.” Dominic hovered in the doorway, uncertain if he should proceed any further or not. Miguel’s mood was difficult to gauge, and it had been a long and trying day.

“It’s fine.” Miguel’s voice was even, without malice, but there was a hint of something more in his tone.

“Some detectives came by the hospital and questioned everyone,” Dominic explained. “They wouldn’t let any of us leave until they were done. Then a psychiatrist came and evaluated my mother. He insisted on talking to me afterward. Then I had to wait until some of my dad’s friends were free to stay with him because he’s a mess, and I didn’t want to leave him alone.”

“I said it’s fine,” Miguel snapped. “I just...” his voice trailed off and he shook his head. “They didn’t tell you, did they?”

“Tell me what?” Dominic immediately crossed the room and knelt beside Miguel. “What’s wrong?” Concern flooded him. Miguel had been fine when he’d seen him earlier, what more could have happened?

“I tried to tell you when you came to see me. You were in too much of a hurry though. I haven’t been able to find my phone, so I couldn’t text or call you. I told my parents and the police. I thought maybe someone might have mentioned it to you, but you don’t seem to know anything about it.” Miguel looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“Know anything about what? Miguel, what’s wrong?” Dominic looked up into his face as worry clutched at his chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t stay longer when I came to see you. I should have waited to hear what you had to say. I was distracted by everything that had happened. Once I knew you were okay everything else took over.”

Miguel pressed the palm of his hand to his stomach and started to cry. Large tears rolled down his cheeks and he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.

“The baby?” Dominic felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. “No, no...the baby.” He scrambled up onto the bed beside Miguel and pulled him into his arms. “He can’t be...”

“I...” Miguel’s voice cracked as he buried his face against Dominic’s chest. “I don’t know. No one knows. The doctor...he said it’s likely that with the stress and such an early pregnancy...”

“I should’ve come to you sooner. I should’ve...I’m sorry.” Dominic kissed the top of Miguel’s head as he held him. He could feel his own eyes beginning to tear up. That the loss of such a small thing could already bring him such pain was overwhelming to him.

“Please...” Miguel sat up slowly and looked Dominic in the eye. “Please tell me that they’re sending her to prison.”

Dominic clenched his jaw as he tried to order his thoughts. “Th-they...the psychiatrist is going to recommend that she be sent to Ocean Park.”

“Mental hospital?” Miguel’s face contorted in agony. “They’re sending her to the mental hospital? After she tried to murder me? And what? Will they let her out in a few years once they prove that she’s ‘cured?’”

Miguel withdrew from Dominic’s embrace.

“The psychiatrist said she’s suffered a mental break. She won’t speak to anyone. She barely even eats. She just sat and stared at the wall all day long. Wouldn’t answer his questions or the questions of the detectives,” Dominic tried to explain. Yet every word out of his mouth seemed to cause even greater revulsion from Miguel.

“Dom…your mother plotted to kill me. She may have already killed our baby. She held me in my chair and kept me from reaching my epipen. If you had gotten home any later, I’d be dead right now. Would you still be defending her then?”

Dominic slid off the bed onto the floor. He sighed as he stared across the room towards the door.

“I hate her,” he said at last. “I loathe her and every breath she takes. Part of me wishes she hadn’t survived the suicide attempt.”

“Dom...” Miguel’s voice sounded surprised.

Dominic kept staring forward. “But...I also love her. She raised me, showered me with love. She made me who I am today, and I would be in agony if she had died.”

Miguel said nothing this time, but Dominic could feel the omega’s eyes on him.

“After what she did to you, I was prepared to turn my back on her and never speak to her again. After what she did to herself, I felt as if I were about to lose one of the most important people in my life.” Dominic hit the back of his head against the mattress several times as he tried to collect his thoughts. “How I feel about her is a confused tangle in my chest. But, as I stood there looking at her, I realized that how I feel about her isn’t what’s important.”

He looked up towards Miguel and stared into the omega’s eyes. “The only thing that matters is how I feel about you. I should have made you more of a priority today. I should have taken more time to listen to you and find out if you were really okay. I should have at least stopped to try and figure out our cell phone situation. But I let myself get carried away with other things. For that, I’ll be forever sorry.”

Miguel slid down to the floor beside Dominic. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I just...I felt very alone after the doctor told me about the baby. I needed to know that you were feeling what I was feeling. That I wasn’t being completely unreasonable getting upset about this. I mean, we haven’t even known about it that long.”

“You aren’t being unreasonable,” Dominic reassured him. “I...I’m worried about him too.” He placed a hand on Miguel’s belly. “I’m right here for you. I’ll figure out where your phone ended up first thing tomorrow. That way even if I have to leave, you’ll be able to get a hold of me. Okay?”

Miguel nodded slowly as he yawned. “I just need some sleep now.”

“Let me tuck you into bed,” suggested Dominic.

“No,” said Miguel, leaning against Dominic’s shoulder. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

* * *

Daylight streamed through the bedroom window. The days had blurred together and weeks had slipped away from them. Yesterday, Miguel officially entered the seventh week of his pregnancy. Today was the scan.

Miguel had been a nervous wreck. He barely ate, slept a lot, and avoided being alone as much as possible. But he hadn’t undergone any of the symptoms that the doctor had warned him to look out for.

Meanwhile, Dominic had started his new job for Matías. He’d barely had a chance to think about the pregnancy now that he found himself running back and forth between his apartment and the new job every few hours. Not only was the schedule erratic, but the work itself was physically hard. He did his best not to complain about it however. The pay was good and that was what mattered.

He’d tried to get Miguel to start house shopping for them, but the omega had made little progress. They’d gone to look at one house, and Miguel had ultimately turned it down because it was in a state of disrepair that neither of them was equipped to deal with at the moment.

While all of this went on, they made little progress on their recipe. Dominic had eventually cooked up the last of the squid to keep it from going bad. He’d handed out a few samples to friends and family. The general consensus was that it was good, but not good enough to win against Mike.

Dominic stared up at the ceiling above his bed and sighed.

“You already awake?” Miguel’s voice emerged through the silence.

“Yeah.” Dominic rolled over to face Miguel. “You’ve got a few more hours before your appointment.”

“I know. I just...” Miguel slid across the bed towards him and snuggled into his arms. “Why’d it have to be today?”

“It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a coincidence. Try to stay positive.” Dominic squeezed him warmly and kissed him. “We’ll get through this.”

They lay like that until the music started. The upbeat, familiar, wavering tune that everyone on the island knew. The March of the Dead. It drifted up from the streets outside as local musicians across the island took up their instruments.

“All right, time to get up,” said Dominic after a moment of listening to the song. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us. You should get a shower and freshen up.” He slid towards the edge of the bed.

Miguel stiffly slid out of bed and headed towards the bathroom without another word.

Dominic took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Miguel wasn’t the only one feeling uncomfortable that the pregnancy scan had fallen on the 31^st of October.

It was called many things in many different parts of the world. On Catalejo Island, however, they called it the March of the Dead. It was the day when the souls of the dead were believed to rise up and walk among the living, visiting their friends and loved ones. It was a joyous celebration filled with music and dancing, food and drink, as well as practical jokes.

Long ago, it was believed that deceased loved ones would pull harmless pranks on their family and friends to let them know that they were still with them. To keep the spirit of the day alive, the living began to play pranks on one another and blame it on the ghosts.

Normally, the March was one of Dominic’s favorite days of the year. He’d pulled elaborate pranks on Guillermo every year for the last six years. This time, however, everything was different.

Today was the day that they found out if their unborn child had become a ghost.

When they finally set foot outside, it was still mid-morning yet the celebration was already in full swing.

Ghostly apparitions made out of gauze, sheets, or even white garbage bags were sprinkled out across the main street. Huge wreaths made out of fake bones and decorated with brightly colored island flowers hung on almost every door.

Children dressed as ghosts ran up and down the streets, greeting people and asking the way to the graveyard. It was believed that the souls would wander the streets until someone gave them direction and any that were still wandering when midnight came would be trapped in the land of the living for the rest of the year.

So the children masquerading as ghosts would ask the way and when they got an answer, they would give that person a chocolate coin as a reward. The coin was to symbolize the good fortune that would follow the person for doing a good deed when there was no benefit to themselves.

At the end of the day, everyone would gather at the graveyard where a massive feast was organized.

Until then, the musicians of the island would play the March of the Dead on their steel pan drums and guitars. A song that was thought to summon the dead from the graves and call them to dance in the streets with the living.

All of the street stalls were filled with delicious treats and trinkets evoking the spirit of the holiday.

The March of the Dead was especially popular with tourists. The hotels would be overflowing right now. The streets were already packed despite how early it was. It would only get worse throughout the day.

Dominic lead Miguel through the chaos of the festival. Neither of them spoke as they turned down the side streets that lead away from the main celebration.

The music still drifted through the streets, but the crowds were thinner. There were fewer tourists and more locals.

They were still a few blocks away from the clinic when a little girl in a ghost costume ran up to them. She couldn’t have been more than six.

“Please sirs, tell me the way to the cemetery gate, for if I stray and show up late, I will wander alone ‘til this date.” The girl recited the traditional rhyme as she pretended to float spookily before them.

To Dominic’s surprise, it was Miguel that answered. “Follow the road from the center of town. At the end of its curves the gate will be found.”

The girl giggled. “Thank you!” She dug into the small bag she was carrying and handed each of them a chocolate coin. “Don’t forget to join us for the feast tonight!” She shouted back to them as she ran towards her parents.

Dominic watched her leave with a bittersweet smile on his face.

“Even if...” Miguel’s voice was tight as he began. “Even if we lose this one...I still want to have children with you, Dom.” He looked over at Dominic as he placed a hand on his belly.

Dominic kissed Miguel’s forehead. “Don’t worry, mi alma. We’ll have a beautiful little family of our own. Even if it’s not this time.”