Chapter 27

“He forced you to give her up.” Jasper’s voice was shocked, pained, and it rocked Emma back to the present.

“Things like unplanned teenage pregnancies don’t happen to Winthrops,” she said, miserable. “Especially ones who are supposed to be applying to med school, not finding a pediatrician for a surprise baby.”

“Did the father—did he have any say? Did your father let him?”

“No.” She shook her head. “In a move straight out of another century, Dad basically locked me in the house, hired a tutor to homeschool me, and told everyone I’d gone to Paris to spend my senior year.”

“I can’t picture you standing for that.”

“I’m not the same person now that I was then, Jasper.” She shook her head, remembering endless days of lying on her bed, feeling the baby kick, plotting ways to run away. “He had me convinced that I’d soiled the Winthrop name forever, that no college would look twice at me if they knew, that my poor little sister’s reputation would be ruined, as well, just by association.”

“Good God.”

“I’m not proud.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not proud of the stupid, rebellious idiot I was to let it happen in the first place. I’m not proud that I didn’t figure out how to escape the house and run away somewhere to have the baby myself. I’m not proud that I let him brainwash me into thinking I’d failed at life at age seventeen.”

She shrugged. “But I was seventeen. What do you know at seventeen?”

“Not a hell of a lot.” He sighed, then stood up and came to sit on the bed beside her, taking her hand in his. “Do you have any idea—”

“No.” She shook her head miserably. “It was a closed adoption. He never wanted the baby to be able to find me, and the adoptive parents were all too happy to pretend she was theirs from the start. She’ll have no idea she ever had another mother.”

“I’m so sorry, Emma. So hellishly sorry this happened to you, and so sorry you never got to know her, or be her mother.”

“Well, me, too.” Emma nodded, squeezing his hand. “Thanks for listening.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

She cleared her throat, trying to shake off the memories and lighten the mood. “You’re the nosy Nellie who found her footprint and made me.”

“I’m glad I did. Can’t lie.” He ran a hand up her jaw, stroking his thumb against her cheek. “There’s a lot more to Emma Winthrop than meets the eye.”

“Yes, there is,” she whispered. “Too bad you didn’t stick around to find out.”

Later that afternoon, Kyla knocked on Emma’s door, holding up ginger ale and saltine crackers, and Emma looked up from where she was sitting on the couch.

“You’re brave, coming down here again. Don’t touch anything I might have touched.”

Kyla opened the door. “I’m not afraid. And you need sustenance.”

“I just had soup, actually. And it’s staying where it belongs, so…progress.”

Kyla set the soda and crackers on the table, along with another little bag. “How long have you been feeling sick? Just curious about this bug, in case it shows up here.”

“Um, maybe a week or so? It’s been creeping up on me gradually, I think, and then ka-bam. Took me down.”

“So…nausea? Dizziness? Fainting?”

Emma tipped her head. “Yes. The same thing everybody else has.”

Kyla sat down on the edge of the couch, cringing a little. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. The entire nursing home is on lockdown because of it. How could I not be sure?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I was just—I don’t know. The timing of it, is all.”

“What timing? What are you talk—” Emma broke off, her eyes going wide as she realized exactly what Kyla was talking about.

“Yeah. That.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Not possible. No way. We were totally, one hundred percent careful.”

“I’m sure you were.”

“One night. That’s all it was. One. I mean, seriously.” Her hand went to her stomach, which was threatening again. “No.”

“Okay.” Kyla put up her hands. “I just wanted to raise the possibility. I’m sure you were careful.”

Emma’s head started swirling faster than her stomach. What if—oh, God! What if!

“Don’t freak out yet.” Kyla put a hand on her knee. “Just get your calendar.”

Emma shook her head. She knew damn well when her last period had been. And she knew—now that she took a god-awful freaking-out moment to think about it—that it should have come by now.

“Kyla?” Her voice sounded like a little girl’s as she crossed her arms carefully over her tender stomach.

“Are you late?”

“I think so? But with the stress of this new job, and just—everything, I haven’t paid attention. But I’m on birth control to regulate—never mind. TMI.” She shook her head. There was no way, right? It was just stress, messing with her body. “No. It’s not possible.”

“Okay. But if you want to check for sure, I had an extra test in my cabinet. I brought it down here, just in case.”

Emma looked at the table. “Oh, God.”

“Maybe just take it? Then you’ll know?”

“It’s just a bug. It has to be just a bug. Everyone has this bug.”

“I know.” Kyla nodded. “But everyone else has been done with it in twenty-four hours. You’re going on a week here.”

She stood up and went to get the bag from the table. “Here. Just go see.”

“Did I mention the part about ‘oh, God?’ Because I am praying very hard right now.”

“It’ll be okay. Whatever the result, it’ll be okay.”

Emma inhaled carefully, then took the bag and headed to the bathroom.

Five minutes later, she emerged. “Do you have another one?”

“Why?”

“Because this one’s…broken.”