A few days passed in a haze of exhaustion and routines I barely registered. Then, one morning, a strange sensation washed over me. I felt nauseous, and an inexplicable flutter danced in my belly. For a moment, I dismissed it—grief could wreak havoc on the body in unimaginable ways. But the feeling persisted, like an insistent whisper in my mind.
Peral came by to check on me. I’m guessing it was her turn to watch over me.
"Luna, you look pale," she observed, overtaking her face. "Are you eating enough?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "I haven't really been keeping track."
She sighed, reaching out her hand for me to take. “Come on….” She stopped talking as soon as she took my hand. “Oh my god.” A smile played on her lips.
I stood there staring at her, unsure of what she was smiling about
