Page 270 of Ricardo

“Take the test,” Victoria says gently. “You do not have to solve the rest right now.”

I nod.

It takes me another minute to stand.

Victoria stays at the table. She does not follow me into the bathroom, and I am grateful for that too. Some humiliations need privacy, even when the person on the other side of the door already knows exactly what is happening and has been through it herself.

I open the first box with clumsy fingers.

The instructions are simple.

Something so life changing shouldn't be this simple.

When I finish, I set the test on the counter and wash my hands. Then I stare at the mirror and try to recognize the woman looking back at me.

Ricardo’s shirt.

Hair tangled around my shoulders.

Eyes too large in a face that looks drained of color.

I do not look like someone who might be carrying a child.

I look like someone who barely made it through the night.

The timer on my phone would help if I had my phone, but I don't. And I have no idea where it is.

Likely in police custody.

For a moment, I think about something I haven't thought about at all. Where are the police? Why haven't they questioned me yet? They didn't show up at the hospital.

Is that what being attached to a Conti is like?

I suppress the thought and open the bathroom door.

Victoria looks up immediately.

“It says three minutes,” I tell her.

She nods. “All right.”

I leave the test on the counter and walk back to the table. Victoria pours more tea into my cup even though I have not finished the first one.

Neither of us says anything for a while.

I sit with my hands between my knees, staring at the carpet.

Three minutes should be short.

Three minutes can change my entire life.

Downstairs, a low murmur of male voices rises. I swallow. Ricardo is back. It won't be long until he comes up here. As soon as whatever conversation the men are having downstairs is over.

I think of Ricardo’s face when he finds out.

If.

When.