Chapter Twelve
The world hadn’t righted itself since that night in the hall on Oak Street.
Since Dottie’s voice had rang out like a death sentence. Since Asher had stood there, silent, watching me bleed out from the inside.
I’d walked away. I had no other choice.
And I had sworn—sworn—I was done with him.
But two weeks later, I was sitting on the bathroom floor of Demi’s apartment, staring at the little plastic stick in my shaking hands, my stomach twisted into a knot so tight I could barely breathe.
Pregnant.
The word screamed at me, carved into my skull like some kind of cruel joke.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.
Demi knocked on the door. “Ava? You good?”
No. No, I wasn’t good. I was so far from good I couldn’t even see it anymore.
My fingers clenched around the test until m
