My Child Spoke, Then I Knew No Pregnancy

I was sipping my prenatal-care tonic when a soft, childish voice suddenly cut through the quiet of the room. "Mom, I don't want to be your kid." I looked around frantically, but the little boy's voice didn't stop. "You only found out you were pregnant after you were kidn*pped. Dad's never stopped doubting if I'm really his. I lived a whole lifetime once, and I never got an ounce of real love from him." Wait, was that my baby's inner voice? But Rowan had sworn he trusted me, that he knew I was innocent. I was just about to call him when a text from my obstetrician popped up on my phone. Doctor: Mrs. Pedro, I'm so sorry. An intern mixed up the blood test reports last week. You're not the one who's pregnant. I froze, my mind going completely blank. Where on earth had that 'baby's voice' come from, then? I stumbled to the edge of the bed and plopped down, my mind reeling. I landed right on the teddy bear Rowan had given me on Valentine's Day, and something hard dug sharply into my thigh. I reached down instinctively to feel what it was. It looked exactly like the voice robot Rowan's company had been developing, and my blood ran cold. So he'd never trusted me at all. The rift between us opened the second those thugs took me and held me for a day and a night. Fine. If that's how it was, I'd set us both free. ***** I pulled up my phone's Bluetooth and hit search. Sure enough, an unknown device popped up immediately. I leaned in close to the teddy bear, my voice low and rough. "Okay." A tiny light on the bear's stomach flickered twice, then went dark. All the tangled doubts in my chest finally cleared. This was the key project Rowan and I had been working on before the k********g. The voice system could mimic human speech so closely it was nearly impossible to tell the difference. It could even hold conversations. We'd built it to let caregivers simulate the presence of loved ones. To give people emotional comfort when they needed it most. After the k********g, Rowan had told me to stay home and rest. I'd only heard that the project was in the testing phase. I never would have guessed I'd be its first test subject. Looking at it now, the test was a smashing success. I'd almost fallen for it—hook, line, and sinker. Another text from the doctor pinged in. Doctor: Oh, by the way, is your friend feeling better? Mr. Pedro came to the hospital a while back asking for herbs to treat irregular menstrual cycles. That formula is very warming. If she's trying to get pregnant, don't let her take it for long. It can easily cause a miscarriage. I stared at the half-finished cup of the so-called prenatal-care tonic next to me, words stuck in my throat. "Camelia? Did you finish your medicine?" Rowan's voice yanked me out of my dazed spiral. I looked up at him, his eyes soft and warm as always, and for a second I thought everything that just happened had been some terrible dream. "You look pale. Is the baby okay?" he asked, stepping closer. "Get some rest, I'll take you to the hospital for a full check-up tomorrow. Could the k********g have startled you and harmed the baby?" He was just as gentle and attentive as he'd ever been, but then my fingers brushed the little device hidden in the teddy bear, and an icy chill crept up my spine, spreading through every limb. "The baby's fine," I said. "This medicine works really well." Rowan's eyebrows twitched slightly, like that wasn't the answer he'd been waiting to hear. From that reaction alone, he didn't seem to notice that I lied even though I was never any good at lying and that my voice even shook a little. "Camelia, you really don't look well. Let's get you checked out tomorrow first," he said. "If this pregnancy is hurting your health, we can always have another kid later. You're the one I care about most." Once, I would have teased him for being so obsessed with me that he'd dismiss our own kid without a second thought. But now, those words weren't a sweet joke between us anymore. He patted my shoulder comfortingly, head bowed as he tapped away at his phone, like he was arranging something important. A few minutes ticked by before Rowan finally noticed I'd gone quiet. He stepped forward and led me over to the desk nearby. He must have been guilty, because his hand was ice-cold, nothing like the cozy warmth I was used to. "Rowan, if this baby is gone—" I started, but I didn't even get the rest of the sentence out before that high, childish voice piped up again, clear as day in the quiet room. "Mom, Dad's already hurting so bad right now. Why do you have to keep torturing him? Do you want me to spend the rest of my life not being able to hold my head up?" Rowan watched me freeze, then asked like nothing was out of the ordinary, "Camelia, why are you zoning out again?" I bit down hard on my jaw, forcing my rage down. "Did you hear someone talking just now?" He didn't hesitate for a second, just gave my shoulder a light pat. "There's only you and me in this room. Do you have prenatal anxiety or something?" I could barely process it. This was the same man who used to trip over his own words every time he lied, and now he was this smooth, like it was second nature. I leaned against the desk for support and slowly walked over to the bed, resting my hand lightly on the teddy bear. Rowan swallowed so hard his Adam's apple bobbed visibly, his gaze pinning straight to the exact spot the device was stashed inside the teddy bear. I let out a long, heavy sigh, all the fight draining out of me at that moment. "Rowan, I don't want this baby anymore. I'm just so tired."