There’s a baby in me. A real human life. A child. A part of me and Carlo.
Suddenly, Emily has her arms around my shoulders, half-slumped out of her chair. I hug her back because it’d be rude not to, and try to smile as she showers me in kisses, as she makes oohing and ahhing noises and tells me she’ll be the most doting aunt who’s ever lived.
“But you can’t tell Carlo until I’m ready,” I whisper. “You have to promise.”
“Of course,” she says. “It’ll be our secret. But, Hazel, he’ll be just as happy as I am. I know he will.”
But I don’t know if Emily is right about Carlo being happy because, as one day turns to two, and two turns to three … I don’t tell him.
I look for opportunities, but it just feels like I’d be throwing an atom bomb into this sort-of alliance we’ve made. This silent a
