But Lena was already turning away, her hands wiping at her tears as she walked down the hallway.
“I need space,” she whispered, barely audible.
She entered the bedroom and closed the door behind her, then locked it, as if that thin piece of wood was the only thing standing between her and complete collapse.
On the other side, Lana stood frozen, staring at the closed door, her chest tight with guilt.
Inside the bedroom, Lena slid down against the door, curling into herself as sobs finally tore free from her chest, deep and broken, the kind of crying that came from too many wounds reopened at once.
She hugged her arms around her belly, shaking.
“I didn’t choose this,” she whispered through tears. “I didn’t choose to fall apart.”
And for the first time since everything began, the place
