Page 179 of Josephine and Clay

“I’m okay.”

“That sounded fake.”

“It was a little fake.”

“I’m five minutes away. Unlock the door, sit down, and drink water.”

She hangs up before I can respond.

I unlock the apartment door, then lower myself carefully onto the couch with a glass of water I don’t want. Both hands stay pressed protectively over my stomach.

Two babies.

Two tiny heartbeats.

Two lives already rearranging mine from the inside out.

“Please be okay,” I whisper.

The apartment feels painfully quiet until the front door bursts open, hard enough to bounce off the wall.

Penny storms inside wearing leggings, an oversized sweatshirt, and two entirely different shoes.

I stare at her feet. “You're wearing one boot and one sneaker.”

She glances down. “Good range. I can flee danger and kick it.”

A startled laugh escapes me, shaky around the edges.

Her whole expression softens. “Oh, honey.”

“I’m scared.”

The confession slips out before I can polish it into something more manageable.

Penny crosses the room and drops onto the coffee table in front of me, taking both my hands in hers. “I know. But we’re getting you checked out, and until somebody with a medical degree tells us otherwise, we are not spiraling.”

“That sounds suspiciously reasonable.”

“I’m trying a new thing.”

Another cramp drags low through my abdomen. My fingers tighten around hers automatically.

Her jaw hardens, but her tone never wavers. “Hospital. Now.”

“I might be overreacting.”

“Fantastic. Then we’ll overreact somewhere with ultrasound equipment.”

Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting in Penny’s car wearing the first clothes she yanked out of my dresser, clutching a water bottle against my stomach.

Penny drives with the confidence of a woman who believes traffic laws are mostly creative suggestions.

“Still no bleeding?” she asks.

“No.”

“We remain huge fans of that.”