The morning light crept softly through the cabin window, brushing Betty’s face with a pale warmth. She sat on the edge of the bed, stomach twisting in a familiar wave of nausea, the taste of last night’s tea still clinging unpleasantly in her mouth. Pregnancy, she reminded herself, forcing a weak smile, made mornings unpredictable.
She slipped into her clothes slowly, careful not to aggravate the nausea that came in sudden waves. A soft, oversized sweater, leggings, and sturdy boots, something she could move in easily. She tied her hair back, glanced at the small mirror, and took a shaky breath. Today, she decided, she would go out. Not far, just into the woods. She had her suspicions about where Grayson lived and a part of her curiosity burned too brightly to ignore.
Her steps were lig
