“How have you been feeling?” she asked, in between bites.
“Okay.”
“Have you felt the baby move?”
I turned and looked at her, raising an eyebrow.
She pursed her lips at me.
“I’m not even fifteen weeks…” I finally said.
“Do you not feel the baby then?”
“Some people do, but generally not first-time moms…”
“Oh, I see.”
I continued eating, enjoying every bite. Sometimes food was simpler, but other times I felt like it was a special occasion—without the occasion. The salad was simple—romaine lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, and ranch—but it was the perfect side with the lasagna.
“Have things been going good with uh… Quinn?” she asked, after several minutes.
“There is nothing good about what is happening here,” I said, pressing my lips together.
“But does he treat you right?” she pressed, then lifted the cup to take a drink.
“He dragged me back to my cell by my hair—”
Water sprayed out of her mouth, and she started coughing. I stared at her with narrowed eyes.
“Not what you wanted to hear?” I asked.
“Umm… just unexpected,” she said, finally coughing less.
“Why do you want to know about him?”
“Just wondering,” she said, eyes dropped to her lap.
“Hmm, I’m sure there is more to that. I didn’t get your name earlier?” I asked.
“Annabelle.”
We both finished our food in silence. A big yawn escaped my mouth, eyes feeling heavy. “I’m suddenly feeling really tired. I think it’s time for me to lie down.”
“Yeah, the lasagna has that effect,” she said, and then chuckled under her breath.
I raised my eyebrow at her, unsure what she was trying to imply. I stood, and a wave of exhaustion hit me; my eyes felt heavy, like I'd fall asleep before I made it to my room. My vision felt fuzzy, my balance uneasy as I walked to my bed. I made it there, barely. I’d been tired days before, but nothing like this. Of course, growing a baby was only going to get more intense, but if I was this drained this early on, what would the third trimester look like? As soon as my head hit the pillow, everything went dark.
The door opening startled me awake. I sat up quickly and looked around, then my head started pounding. I closed my eyes, trying to make the flashing in my eyes stop.
“Zalayuh?” Quinnlyn asked.
I turned toward his voice. I tried to open my eyes, but they burned. My stomach was turning. It felt as though I was hungover, but I hadn’t drunk anything. My eyes watered.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
My eyes tightened, trying to will away the pounding in my head. Fire churned in my stomach and was creeping up my throat. I was seconds away from puking. I forced my eyes open and moved off the bed, pushing past him. I was unsteady, but I stumbled into the bathroom, and lasagna came out and into the toilet. I made it. I sank to my knees, hugging the toilet. My stomach burned less, but still burned.
“Is this the pregnancy—”
