Josie
I couldn't believe the way these people were moving—slow, deliberate, like they thought every step toward me carried the weight of law. It was almost laughable… almost. If it didn't make my blood boil.
Every word they threw at me felt like it had been sharpened long before they even stepped into this room—carefully honed little blades, just waiting for the right moment to slice into my skin and see how deep they could cut.
At some point, the intrusive thought crept in, sudden and reckless—I should just tell them I'm pregnant. The urge to spit it out was sharp, an arrow poised on the string, and I knew it would shut them up in an instant. Their faces would pale, their carefully arranged arrogance cracking under the truth.
But I shoved it back down where it belonged. No. That wasn't a card they got to see, not now, not like this. My child wasn't a weapon. My child wasn't ammunition for political games. And I refused to let them drag something pure into their mess.
