Maya’s POV
Three days of bed rest in Alex’s old apartment had lowered my blood pressure, but the paranoia was worse.
Every car that passed made me flinch. Every footstep in the hallway made my heart race. Every phone notification sent fear through me until I confirmed it wasn’t another message from Victoria.
“You need to eat something,” Alex said, handing me lunch from a nearby deli. “Dr. Chen said the baby needs proper nutrition even when you’re stressed.”
“I’m not hungry.” I stood by the window, peeking through the curtain. If Victoria wanted to find us, she would.
“Maya, you haven’t eaten properly in two days,” he said gently, setting the food on my lap. “Please. For the baby.”
I took a few bites. The baby kicked, probably hungry too. At eight months, every movement felt stronger,
