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“Kroppy—”

“Be quiet or I'll make you regret it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She finds several torn strips of foil and starts fitting them together across the tile like pieces of a treasure map. I watch in silence. Finally, she sits back on her heels and stares at the tiny printed numbers. Her mouth falls open.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“It’s expired.”

I crawl closer. “Expired?”

“It expired almost a year ago.”

“Pregnancy tests expire?”

“Everything also expires, Misiu.”

She looks at me like I’m the dumbest and most adorable creature ever placed on this earth.

“Right,” I say.

“It’d been in my purse forever. I’ve never had a reason to use it.”

“So it could be wrong?”

“It could be.” She fumbles for her phone. “I need another test. Shit. I need a couple just to be sure.”

I take the phone from her before she can start typing with shaking hands. I hook my hands beneath her arms and lift her.

“What're you doing?”

“Putting you somewhere that isn’t a bathroom floor.”

I guide her to the bed anyway and sit her against the pillows. Then I grab a bottle of water from the minibar and twist off the cap.

“Drink.”

“You’re acting like I’m pregnant already.”

“I’m acting like you’re a crocodile who might bite my hand off if I don’t take care of you. Do you want food?”

“I don’t know.”

“Fries?”

“Maybe.”

“Shake?”

She considers it. “Yes.”

I pass her the bottle first, then the shake.

“I’ll get new tests. You stay here, eat something, and try not to convince yourself of anything until we know.”