Beatrice.
The apartment was silent when I crept toward the door at one-forty PM.
Gerald had gone to "check the perimeter"—his way of saying he was doing another sweep of the building and surrounding blocks to make sure no one was watching us. He did it twice a day now, every day, his paranoia matching mine step for step.
Which meant I had exactly twenty minutes to slip out, get to Doctor Rosa's clinic, and pray I made it back before he realized I was gone.
Twenty minutes to confirm what my body had been screaming at me for weeks.
Twenty minutes before I'd see the proof that Adrian Pierre's baby was growing inside me, tying me to him in a way I could never escape.
I left a note on the kitchen counter, my handwriting barely legible from how badly my hands were shaking:
Getting groceri
