Page 74 of What He Keeps

I twist my fingers together in my lap. “About two weeks.”

“Two weeks?”

I wince. “I know. Believe me, I've already had this argument with myself.”

“Maggie.”

“Lord knows I know.”

He purses his lips. “Weren't you on the pill?”

Heat creeps into my cheeks. “I am.” I grimace. “Or at least I was bein’ real good about takin’ it before my life turned into a country song.”

One of his eyebrows lifts.

I sigh. “With everythin’ that's been happenin’, I forgot a few times.”

“A few times?”

I throw my hands into the air. “There was a break-in, somebody stole my planner, people keep stalkin’ me, Ivy was almost kidnapped, and I watched somebody die, Jules. My birth control routine suffered.”

He considers that for a moment before nodding. “Fair enough.”

“I was gonna take a test.”

His eyes narrow. “Was?”

I let out a groan and sink lower in my chair. “My pregnancy test was in my planner.”

Jules stills. “The planner that got stolen?”

I nod. “That’s the one.”

His entire face changes because now he understands the real problem. Not just the possibility that I might be pregnant. It’s everything else. Somebody knows everything about me now.

I scrub both hands over my face before dropping them back into my lap. “That planner had my appointments, shelter schedules, volunteer contacts, and Mama's work schedule written in it.”

Jules drags a hand through his hair. “Oh, honey.”

“Trust me, I’ve been sick about it.” The words come out tired because I’ve replayed this conversation with myself at least a hundred times already.

I stare down at my hands while I keep going. “It had information about fundraisers, adoption events, supply deliveries...” I swallow hard and my stomach drops.

Jules sits forward so fast his chair squeaks against the floor. “What else?”

The question is gentler now, and that makes it harder to answer. I pick at a loose thread on my jeans and keep my eyes fixed on my lap.

“My doctor appointment.”

The conversation grinds to a halt. Outside the door, dogs bark, volunteers move through the hallway, and somewhere in the shelter, a kennel door slams shut. Life goes on around us, but neither of us pays any attention. We both understand what this means.

That planner wasn't just a calendar. It was a map of my life, laid out in neat handwriting across pages someone else now possesses.

My arms break out in goosebumps.

Jules exhales slowly and drags a hand down his face. “Alright. First things first. You need to change everythin’ you can.”

I let out a tired laugh. “There's not much to change.”