Grace's POV
The nausea hit without warning.
I bolted from Hunter's office, my hand clamped over my mouth as I ran for the bathroom, even though I could have used Hunter's personal bathroom. I barely made it to a stall before I was sick, my stomach heaving violently.
Morning sickness. Or stress. Maybe both.
I heard the bathroom door open, then Quinn's voice. "Grace?"
I couldn't answer, another wave hitting me. Quinn appeared, pulling my hair back and rubbing circles on my back.
When I finally finished, she helped me to the sink. My reflection looked terrible. I was so pale, eyes watering, mascara smudged.
"First trimester's a b***h," Quinn said quietly, wetting paper towels.
I nodded, accepting them gratefully. "I need to get back. Hunter—"
"Hunter can wait." Quinn's voice was firm
