Chapter 112 One-hundred And Twelve

• Millicent
• The bathroom tile was cold under my palms as I gripped the sink, trying to breathe through another wave of nausea. Morning sickness, they called it. What a joke. Mine hit at all hours, but tonight it was working overtime, probably because my nerves were already shot to hell.
• "Just hold it together, Millicent," I whispered to my reflection. The woman staring back at me looked pale despite the carefully applied makeup. Two weeks since my heat, two weeks of pretending everything was fine while this secret grew inside me. I pressed a hand to my still-flat stomach and closed my eyes.