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I didn’t have time to test which one’s are Bianca proof, so I’m being bold and choosing to slip out of the front door.
I’m only hoping that once I’m outside the property, I’ll be hard to track if I keep to the trees.
Zara’s left her car at the far side of the park that backs onto the house, so I only have to scale the fence.
If Zara could do it, so can I.
If all goes to plan, I’ll be back in two hours, and no one will be none the wiser.
Unless Alexei decides to check back through the security footage…
Maybe that would be a good time to hit him with the pregnancy news.
I have no choice. I need to see a doctor and confirm my suspicions.
So, ignoring the pounding in my chest and the ringing in my ears, I slip out of the front door and start sprinting for the trees.
The lack of food I’ve consumed over the past week starts to quickly catch up to me. I’m weak and lightheaded as I run through the trees.
It’s midafternoon, and the early May sun is beating down overhead, the trees around me providing little shade.
I’m sweating and exhausted, but eventually, the fence comes into view. It’s almost double my height with barbed wire running along the top.
“What the fuck, Zara?”
She warned me about the fence, but I didn’t realize it was so high and dangerous.
I look around. “I guess I’m going to have to climb a tree.”
I was never an athletic kid, and I haven’t changed in the meantime.
My fingernails are bleeding, and my knees are all scratched and bloody as I scale what I thought looked to be the nicest tree. Turns out, it makes no fucking difference. All trees suck, and I wish I could just spend the day hiding under my covers.
What sucks even worse is the drop on the other side. There’s no way I can balance on the top of the fence because of the barbed wire. I’m just going to have to take a leap of faith.
“Well, if Alexei won’t kill me, this might. So, here goes nothing.”
I take a deep breath and push off from the tree.
The ground flies up to meet me, and I let out a pained grunt as I hit the grass.
My knees buckle, and I collapse all of my weight onto my right shoulder, rolling once, twice until I’m flat on my back and staring up at the sky.
A hysterical laugh escapes me as I realize that was actually the easy part.
I know I must look like a wreck as I sit in the waiting room of the gynecologist.
My jeans have a huge grass stain on the ass, my hands are all torn, and my hair resembles more of a bird's nest than effortless chic.
All the other pregnant women have that glow that everyone talks about.
Will I have that?
As I take in their perfect bumps, my stomach twists.
What if I’m not pregnant?
The pang of disappointment takes me by surprise, but I don’t have a chance to dwell on it as the doctor appears and looks right at me.
