“I can’t believe you are going to have a baby,” Chiara says, holding her hands a foot away from her stomach, imagining what her own pregnant belly would look like.
I run my hand down my still-flat abdomen. “I can’t, either.”
“Do you think Luka will take the baby?” she asks.
“I don’t know.” I really don’t know. While sitting awake all night, I wondered whether I shouldn’t keep running. I could flee the city and the state and the country, even. I could raise my child far away from this lifestyle, but even though Luka is a wild card and a possible threat, the idea of taking his child so far away from him feels wrong. Even if I never let Luka have a relationship with his child, it still feels wrong to flee the country.
Chiara grabs the remote and flips on the television. I’m amazed I still
