**Mira's POV — Nine Weeks Later**
Thirty-five weeks pregnant felt like carrying a boulder.
Mira lay in bed—as she had for nine straight weeks—watching her belly move. The baby kicked constantly now. Rolled. Pushed feet against her ribs. Made her entire stomach shift in weird, alien ways.
Two more weeks. Then delivery at thirty-seven weeks. Then she could finally stand up without risking everything.
"I hate this," she muttered.
Estelle appeared with lunch. "I know, sweetheart. But you're almost done."
"Two more weeks is an eternity."
"Two more weeks is fourteen days. You've already done sixty-three. You can do fourteen more."
Mira shifted uncomfortably. Her back ached. Her hips ached. Everything ached from lying down constantly. "How's Brielle?"
"Playing in her
