"What… what are those?" she stutters, her voice tripping over the words like she's caught between shock and denial.
"Is it true you don't know what they are," I ask evenly, "or are you just stunned enough to say anything to fill the silence?" My voice stays calm, but the calm is thin, stretched over something raw and volatile burning beneath the surface. "Anyway, to answer your question... they're pregnancy tests."
The words leave my mouth steady, but when I say them, something in me twists and burns hotter.
It's like my instincts push up against my throat, pressing for more, demanding an answer I'm not sure I want to hear.
"Morgana's?" she asks quickly.