Rachelle rolled over in her sleep, drifting off into a dream.

The walls of Darian’s palace rose behind her as she stared out into the starry night, admiring the constellation she had seen when they were last together. Hearing footsteps, she turned to see him standing there, handsome as ever, watching her.

“Hello,” she said with a smile.

He grinned, his right dimple flashing even in the dark of night. He walked towards her at a leisurely pace, his stride confident as he reached her and wrapped his arms around her lower black, closing her in.

“I’ve missed you, Rachelle,” he breathed against her temple, holding her close.

She shivered, leaning in closer to his muscular chest, pressing herself against him.

“I miss you, too,” she whispered. “Where are you?”

She looked up to see Darian staring off into the distance.

“Somewhere safe,” he said.

Rachelle chuckled.

“I’m pretty sure I’m dreaming, and even then, you won’t tell me where you are.”

Darian gazed down at her, reaching a hand up to stroke the edges of her face.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

He leaned down, pulling her lips to his with his finger and thumb on her chin. She basked in the sensation, relishing in the feel of him, the scent of him, the warmth of him. She felt like she had come home. When he ended the kiss, he held her close as they stared out into the night together.

“I need to find you,” Rachelle said. “I have something to tell you.”

“Oh? What’s that?” he asked, his chin resting comfortably on her head.

“Well, I don’t know how to tell you this, but—”

The sound of an explosion erupted in the distance. Darian stepped back, still holding her hand, just like he had before.

“They’re coming,” he said. “We need to get you to safety.”

“But Darian, I have to tell you—”

“It must wait, my love. Please, keep yourself safe. You must stay safe.”

Rachelle sputtered as he led her from the balcony and back into the palace. As they were walking, another boom sounded much closer.

“Darian, I…”

Darian turned, kissing her hard.

“I love you. I’m sorry.”

His expression was sad as he stepped back, and Rachelle heard one last major boom before the dream went black.

She sat upright, sweat dotting her forehead. It was still dark out. She was breathing hard, her hand resting on her heart as her mind slowly became aware of the sound of rain. Another bout of thunder erupted, loud enough to wake the soundest of sleepers.

Restless, she stood, padding back into her living room and staring out the window as the rain poured over the city and into the lake. A bolt of lightning reflected off the waters as another resounding blast of thunder followed soon after. Rachelle reached for a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders, watching the storm as she wrangled with her own stormy emotions.

The dream had felt so real, like Darian was really with her. She knew then, that no matter what happened, she hadn’t been wrong about the way they’d felt for each other. There was something between them, something strong. It was strong enough to connect them through their dreams. Whether he was really there or not, it gave her hope that they would find a way to be together, and perhaps build a family.

Rachelle’s world had been turned completely sideways and flipped over again since her trip to Zaradi. She had managed to tangle herself with love and now had to come to terms with becoming a mother, much sooner than she had anticipated. It was all so much to take in, and it meant so little when compared to her intense desire to find Darian, to have him hold her in his arms once again.

She watched the storm for some time, alternating between hope and fear as her emotions went on a roller coaster ride alongside the rolling thunder. Finally, her eyes began to droop, and she reminded herself that she would need rest to have the strength to face whatever journey lay ahead.

Shuffling back to bed, she wrapped her blanket around her, imagining Darian’s warm body beside hers, keeping her safe, loving her as much as she loved him. She drifted back to sleep, this time her dreams blissfully blank.

Rachelle awoke to the sound of her phone’s alarm. Blinking in the morning light, she reached her arm out to grab her phone, realizing that it wasn’t an alarm. It was a text, from Phoebe.

You don’t have to do this. There can be another way to find him. There has to be!

Rachelle rolled her eyes. While it was nice to have Phoebe’s concern, what she really needed was her support. She sent back a text assuring her assistant that she would be fine and that any messages could be forwarded to another team member while she was away. The resounding silence that met her text spoke volumes.

Checking the clock, Rachelle decided she had enough time to take a shower before heading to the airport. She had no idea when she would have another chance to shower, especially if she was combing a war-torn country. At the thought of it, she hesitated, reconsidering her choice.

Was Phoebe right? Was she putting herself and her baby in more danger by taking this path? Was there something she wasn’t thinking about? Rachelle sat on her bed, thinking about any other options. When her mind drew a blank, she sighed, determined to find Darian. She could get through this if he was with her, and there was so much unspoken between them, so much they hadn’t had time to say.

A nagging voice in the back of her head questioned whether she could prove to herself that Darian loved her in return. His eyes haunted her dreams, watching her with a warmth that heated her core. Deep down, she knew she was right. Darian was the father of her unborn child. Things didn’t happen by chance. They had a reason—a purpose. While Rachelle didn’t consider herself a terribly religious person, she had faith that her soul knew what it was doing, and it had been dormant until Darian came along.

Having already packed her shower supplies, she reached into a bottom cabinet for an extra bar of soap, which she had taken from a hotel during one of her trips. She opened the wrapping around it, inhaling the scent deeply.

Her stomach lurched.

She narrowly made it to the toilet before emptying the contents of her entire stomach, the scent of the soap sticking to her senses. When she tried to stand, her whole world began reeling, and she was kneeling at the toilet once again, immobile.

Rachelle groaned.

Her head felt like lead weights were pressing down on it, her stomach wrenching in knots, tugging in every direction. She rested her head on the toilet seat, cursing the scent of the soap repeatedly as she tried, time and time again, to rise. Each time, she found herself dry-heaving.

She crawled across the floor, reaching for her phone to check the time. If she left at that very moment, she might make her flight. Attempting to stand, she made it to the bathroom door before she was running back to the toilet, tears streaming down her face as her stomach tried to eliminate what wasn’t there.

Resting her head on her forearm, Rachelle came to the realization that she would never last on a twenty-hour flight when she couldn’t even make it out of her bathroom. She ran over everything she ate, grasping at a reason for her sudden illness.

Was this what morning sickness was like?

She had heard that some women endured it through their entire pregnancy, but she had also heard that it was a little nausea before one could get on with the day. Was it normal to have it be so…debilitating?

Reaching for her phone, she dialed Phoebe’s number. Her assistant answered the phone on the first ring.

“Rachelle? What’s happened? Are you okay?”

Rachelle groaned as she fought to find the will to speak without heaving again.

“I don’t know what’s happening. I think there might be something wrong. Can you come help me, Phoebe?”

“Of course! Does that mean you’re not headed to the Middle East today?”

“I can’t even get out of my bathroom,” she groaned.

Phoebe barely masked the relief in her voice.

“Oh honey that’s terrible! I’ll be right over, and I’ll schedule an appointment with your doctor on the way. We’ll get you taken care of, Rachelle. Don’t worry about a thing.”

“Please hurry,” Rachelle said, her head still resting on her arm as she lay on her cold bathroom floor.

“I will.”

“Phoebe?”

“Yes?”

“Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?”

Phoebe laughed into the receiver.

“Every once in a while. Enough to make me feel it, anyway.”

“Good. Please hurry.”

Phoebe promised she would be there as soon as possible before ending the call. By the breath in her voice, Rachelle could tell that she was already rushing into action.

She remained on the floor, occasionally checking her phone. It was far too late for her to consider making her flight, not that she would be able to handle the altitude and confined space and the smell of it anyway. Just thinking about it made her stomach lurch again, though she was able to swallow any convulsions as she focused on breathing and how cold the floor was against her skin.

Anything to distract her from throwing up again.

Phoebe didn’t bother knocking on the door as she entered.

“Rachelle?”

She called out into the apartment, and Rachelle could hear her moving around, searching for her. It didn’t take long for Phoebe to use deductive reasoning and head toward the bathroom. When she did, she knelt down on the ground, placing a hand on Rachelle’s forehead.

“You poor thing. We need to get you to the doctor.”

“I can barely stand without having to puke,” Rachelle moaned, miserable.

“Let’s try to keep you distracted. I’ve got an appointment with your physician; we just need to get you there. Can you stand?”

“I don’t honestly know,” Rachelle said, blinking up at Phoebe.

It wasn’t the most flattering position. Rachelle had been a leader, working her way to the top of her field using the image and brand of ‘Powerful Woman’. To have her assistant looking at her with such pity as she writhed in agony on her bathroom floor was a whole new low. Rachelle realized in that moment that motherhood would be humbling in many, many ways.

“Here,” Phoebe said, stepping back and grabbing a plastic bag. “Take this, and know that you have it if you need it. I need you to straighten up now, Rachelle, and walk with me to the car. Can you find the strength to do that?”

Rachelle remained on the ground for a moment. She thought about her baby, and how she would need to carry on. She had to find strength she didn’t think she had—especially if she was going to find out the truth about the father. There was a chance that Darian didn’t make it, that she would have to go through motherhood alone. For that reason, among many others, she forced herself to stand.

The world swirled around her as she leaned heavily on Phoebe, who led them out of her apartment and down the elevator, which was pure torture. When she got into the passenger seat of Phoebe’s car, she closed her eyes and focused on each breath, trying to keep her mind off of her roiling stomach.

* * *

They reached the doctor’s office an eternity later, and Phoebe checked Rachelle in. Fortunately, a nurse arrived at the door for her shortly after.

“Rachelle Smith?”

A young female doctor walked in, looking at a chart before studying Rachelle. She nodded.

“Well, this certainly looks like pregnancy. Let’s take a look at what’s going on in there, shall we?”

Phoebe stepped to the other side of the curtain as Rachelle changed into a gown, sitting on the crunchy hospital paper. The doctor poured gel onto her stomach, which protruded slightly already, focusing in on what looked like a tiny bean.

“You’ve definitely got a little passenger in there,” the doctor said.

She moved the wand around Rachelle’s stomach, and Rachelle watched her expression carefully. When the doctor’s eyebrows rose in surprise, Rachelle choked back a sob.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” she asked, a tear threatening to drop.

“Not at all. I can tell you why your morning sickness is so acute, however.”

Rachelle waited for her to go on, Phoebe sitting in the chair next to her.

“Rachelle, I’ve counted a few times now, so I think I’ve got the right number here. You’re having sextuplets.”

Phoebe gasped.

“Six babies? How is that possible?”

The doctor shrugged, removing the wand from Rachelle’s belly as she reeled in shock.

“It’s beyond rare when someone isn’t going through IVF, to be honest, but it definitely happens. I would take extra care, for your own safety and that of your babies. Growing one child is difficult. Growing six is going to take six times the strength. Go easy on yourself, and take rest when you need to.”

Rachelle stared at her in disbelief.

“Is the father around?” the woman asked, her tone delicate.

“He will be,” Rachelle said, and Phoebe reached for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Military?”

“Something like that,” Rachelle said, not wanting to get into it at the moment.

The doctor accepted that answer, leaving Rachelle with a few more words of advice before closing the door behind her. Phoebe stared at her with wide, blue eyes.

“Six?” she whispered.

“Yeah. I guess I can justify feeling this sick, huh?”

Phoebe was speechless. She left the room so that Rachelle could get dressed, but Rachelle sat motionless for some time, thinking.

With six babies on the way and their father nowhere to be found, what kind of future did Rachelle have? How could she raise six babies on her own? How was she going to keep them healthy and safe, when even twins made pregnancy risky?

With nothing but worry on her mind, Rachelle dressed once again, and prepared to face her future, whatever it would bring.