Brooklyn dropped the paintbrush back onto the tray and admired her handiwork.

Lilac is perfect. Boy or girl, purple is a royal, beautiful color.

The woman at Home Depot had tried to convince her to buy a warm, pea green for the nursery.

“It’s gender neutral and a very popular color among expecting parents,” she recited in a tone that told Brooklyn she had probably uttered the same words a hundred times that week.

“No,” Brooklyn replied. “No green.”

She did not want any reminder of reptiles or dragons in her house or surrounding her baby. Whatever her baby’s… father was must be the result of some kind of freak accident. It wasn’t genetic, and it certainly wouldn’t affect her child. She repeated this statement in her head over and over, hoping that it would eventually become true if she said it enough times.

And if she was wrong, well… she would deal with that when the time came.

“Everything looks good,” the doctor had assured her. “Whatever they think they saw on that ultrasound doesn’t exist.”

“But I saw the pictures!” Brooklyn had insisted. “There was a tail and…”

She had fallen silent, bile choking her as she vividly remembered the gruesome image.

“There was something clearly wrong with the machine,” Dr. Amory-Silver had insisted. “The last thing a first-time mother needs is more stress.” She had turned the screen to show Brooklyn the photo, the wand firmly on her belly. “See? A perfect baby. No abnormalities. No disfigurements. I am still having some difficulty determining the gender, though. This one likes to keep its legs together very properly.”

But Brooklyn didn’t care about gender as long as the child was healthy and perfect. She had exhaled and nodded as she stared at her innocent baby floating around in her womb. There had been no sign of the monster she had seen in the hospital’s ultrasound.

You are expecting the worst because of its father, she had thought. Even though she had seen nothing wrong with the ultrasound, Brooklyn hadn’t been able to shake the sense that something about her child was going to be different.

Her hands touched the bump along her abdomen, and the baby instantly responded, kicking her furiously, as if she was invading its space. Brooklyn chuckled, her heart racing slightly as she walked from the nursery. She made her way into the kitchen and opened the fridge, eyeing the beer bottles on the top shelf.

Did Ryan drink eight beers last night? Brooklyn thought, mentally calculating how many had been there the night before.

Since her hospitalization, she had felt the tension increasing between her and Ryan.

“You’re pregnant?” he had asked her, and Brooklyn had sighed, hearing the heaviness in his voice.

“I just found out,” she had lied, guilt flooding her as the words left her lips.

Even though he had cheated on her and humiliated her, she needed to tell him the truth. Maybe Audrey was right. Maybe Brooklyn should just go back to Burlingame and stay with her until she got back on her own two feet. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized how long it would be before that happened.

I quit my job, I have no apartment, virtually no savings, she had reminded herself. I can’t contact the father of the baby because he’s some otherworldly monster. How am I going to provide for this child?

“We should get married before he’s born,” Ryan had announced, and the words had surprised her. She had been expecting him to be put off by the news, not eager to move forward.

“Yeah?” she had asked, and he’d nodded.

After Brooklyn returned home, she couldn’t help but feel there was an unseen shadow lurking over their heads. Sometimes she wondered if Ryan suspected that the baby wasn’t his. When he had asked about her due date, Brooklyn had found herself adding a month, and Ryan had never questioned her, which only added to her shame. And now his drinking was becoming ridiculous.

Brooklyn pulled a pitcher of water from the top shelf and poured herself a glass, one hand caressing her stomach. She and Ryan were scheduled to be married in a month, but as the date neared, all of her old doubts seemed to start resurfacing.

I have to tell him the truth, she thought, sighing as she sat on a stool at the island.

Though it had grown slightly less over the past three months, Brooklyn’s yearning to see Cass still lingered, and sometimes, Brooklyn wondered if she wasn’t trying to sabotage whatever manufactured happiness she had wrangled because she secretly hoped to see him again. Then she found herself wondering if he also thought of her, and she hated herself for it.

As Brooklyn sipped on her water, a distant ringing met her ears, and she blinked, gazing around the kitchen in confusion. She perked up and rose from the island, following the sound. As she stepped into the hallway, she heard the unmistakable tinkle of a cell phone from the back bedroom.

Did Ryan forget his phone today? she though as she made her way into the bedroom. She frowned at herself—she had texted him earlier in the morning, so it couldn’t be Ryan’s phone. She touched her pocket to make sure that she still held hers (she did), and when she arrived in the bedroom, the ringing had stopped.

Brooklyn began searching in obvious spots for where the ringing phone may have been. She didn’t see it on the dresser or on the nightstands. The walk-in closet had a small table, but it wasn’t there, nor was it in the bathroom.

Less than a minute later, the ringing started anew, and Brooklyn was able to determine that it was, in fact, coming from the master bedroom’s closet. She dug through the laundry hamper, her hands closing in around a phone she recognized, and a burst of heat tinged her face: it was Ryan’s old phone, the one he’d had in Burlingame. Why was it still active?

Her eyes fell onto the screen, and for a moment, her breath was knocked from her as a familiar name flashed before her face.

Elena.

Brooklyn willed herself to be calm. Maybe Ryan had just forgotten to disconnect his phone. The idea made her scoff as soon as she thought of it. No one forgets to disconnect a phone for almost six months, especially when Ryan must have still been paying for it. And it was fully charged. No, he wanted this phone, and it was still being used.

Immediately, she thought of how the hospital had been able to find him despite his change of phone number. Maybe he wanted to keep in touch with his friends in Burlingame.

Brooklyn was consumed with the memory of Ryan’s own words echoing through the recesses of her mind. What had he said the day he had waited for her outside her job, begging her to forgive him?

“I’ve applied for a transfer. The force is what has been dragging me down. The guys are all a bunch of party-hard, misogynistic asses. I am removing myself from the scene, leaving all this behind. I want to forget about everything in Burlingame. Everything but you.”

The call went to voicemail, and Brooklyn leaned against the wall, carefully pondering her next move. She did not have to think long before the phone rang for a third time. Taking a deep breath, she took the call, careful not to say anything.

“Hello? Ryan?” Elena called.

Brooklyn did not speak, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Baby? I can’t hear you! I’m waiting for you at the Double Tree Hilton on South Los Angeles Street. I can’t check in because the room is in your name…” Elena trailed off. “Ryan, can you hear me? I just want to make sure I got the right Hilton. Ryan?”

Elena grunted in frustration and disconnected the call.

Brooklyn’s hand shook as she waited for the woman to call back. She scampered toward the kitchen, where she had left her laptop, and plopped down before the screen, her fingers conjuring the contact information for the hotel.

The phone began to ring again, and Brooklyn answered it again.

“Hello, Elena,” she sighed. “Ryan left his phone.” There was a deep, ominous silence on the other end. “Now I can’t hear you, hon,” Brooklyn told her scathingly. “Are you there?”

To her anger, Elena began to laugh.

“Did you think that trapping him into marrying you would make him stay away from me?” she purred. “He was never going to let me go, Brooklyn.”

“He can have you,” Brooklyn replied easily, and as she spoke, she realized she meant it.

“Whatever,” Elena chortled. “You’re seething, all fat and pregnant right now. He’s only staying with you because you’re knocked up, but he’ll leave you like he did before.”

“I am pregnant,” Brooklyn agreed. “But he won’t leave me again.”

“Oh, look!” Elena suddenly giggled. “There he is now, pulling up in his squad car. Should I tell him you said hi?”

“No,” Brooklyn said. “But you can tell him something else for me.”

“What’s that?”

“Tell him not to contact me again.”

In the background, she heard Ryan’s voice asking Elena who she was talking to.

“He’s right here, sweetie,” she cooed. “You can—”

“And tell him the baby isn’t his.”

Brooklyn hung up the phone and turned it off, so she wouldn’t hear it ringing again. To be certain of what she was going to do next, she dialed the number of the hotel from her own phone.

“Double Tree Hilton, how may I help you?”

“Hi, my husband booked a room for us, but we’re running a little late. I just want to ensure it’s still being held,” she quickly improvised. In her ear, the phone beeped, indicating another call was coming through.

“The name, ma’am?”

“Shilling. Ryan Shilling.” She heard the clack of keys.

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Shilling! The room is still being held. There should be no issue.”

“Thank you so very much,” Brooklyn said. She hung up and glanced at the incoming number, a small smile on her face. She felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She pulled herself off the counter and wandered toward the bedroom, yanking a suitcase out of the closet.

Ryan had lied to her. Then she had lied to him. Then he had lied to her again. That was quite a dangerous pattern to keep in a relationship. By walking away from this, she was saving herself and her baby a lifetime of pain. It seemed like the universe worked in mysterious ways.

Her phone rang again, and Brooklyn blocked Ryan’s number before throwing everything she needed into her bag. When she had finished, she made one more phone call.

“Hey,” she said. “It’s me.”

“Are you all right?” Audrey immediately asked. “Is the baby okay?”

“Yes,” Brooklyn responded. “We’re both fine. I just wanted to let you know…” She made a small pause as she tried to find the right words.

“What?” Audrey screeched, venom pouring from her tone. “What did that asshole do now?”

“I wanted to let you know I’m on my way home,” Brooklyn told her. “For good.”