ISABELLA POV
The pharmacist was an older woman with kind eyes who didn't ask questions when I placed three different pregnancy tests on the counter. She just rang them up, took my euros, and sent me on my way with a gentle "Good luck, dear."
I didn't feel lucky.
I felt terrified.
The walk back to my apartment felt like walking to my execution. Every step I take is heavier than the last. Tourists wandered the cobblestone streets, snapping photos of the old town's medieval architecture, completely oblivious to the girl passing them whose entire life might be about to change.
I climbed the narrow stairs to my flat, locked the door behind me, and stood in the tiny bathroom with three pregnancy tests lined up on the sink.
My hands shook as I opened the first box. Read the instructions thr
