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He held out the simple white paper. I took it, although I already knew what it was. I didn't know how Cory had gotten it––a well-placed bribe, perhaps, even though whoever had leaked the information was breaking major privacy laws. He could write it off as part of the process of vetting Brandon's campaign run, but also, no doubt, it was something that allowed Cory to get rid of me. Because when I looked down at the paper, I saw the short record of my last free clinic visit, including the prognosis, with the words "mifepristone" and "misoprostol" written clearly under treatment.
"It's...it's the record of..." I trailed off, my voice hiccupping over itself. The words were literally so painful to get out. My throat ached with each one.
"It's a record of the abortion she had two months ago." Miranda's voice was clear and strong from where she stood at Brandon's shoulder. It rang through the room like a church bell. "It's simple, Bran."
Her long fingers stroked Brandon's thick hair. My tongue continued to lodge itself in the back of my throat, but I wanted to rip her fingers off. She was petting him like he was her dog, and the large diamond ring she still wore glinted under the fluorescent lights.
She set a proprietary hand on his shoulder before glaring at me. "She killed your baby."
Behind Brandon, Kieran covered her mouth with one hand and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket with the other. I closed my eyes again and cradled my forehead in my palms. I would have sold my soul to have been in any other room but this one. But, as Bubbe would say, I'd made my bed. It was far past time to lie in it.
"Oh, Christ on a fucking cracker," Jane retorted from behind me. "That's a little melodramatic, don't you think? I mean, it was a cluster of cells at that point, not the divine infant."
"Jane," Eric said in a tone that beckoned her to shut the hell up.
"Well, it's true," she mumbled, but even I could hear the bitterness in my best friend's voice. She had thought my decision was a bad one from the beginning, particularly since it hadn't included Brandon. And she was right, of course. So very, very right.
Miranda was silent, but I could feel, rather than see, her meditatively rubbing Brandon's shoulder, playing with the curls at the base of his neck. Like she had a right to touch him that way. Like he was hers.
My throat felt like it was being squeezed through; every bone in my body suddenly ached. But I knew I couldn't keep my head buried in my hands forever.
"Where did you get this?" I asked, finally finding the courage to look directly at Miranda. "This photograph? Were you having me followed too?"
She just arched a delicately shaped brow. "Turns out I didn't have to. Money will do a lot very quickly, sweetie," she said. "Especially with someone as desperate as your stepfather."
Beside her, Brandon blinked. Stun was written all over his features, rendering him utterly motionless while he stared at the papers in front of him. Then he finally looked at me. The utter horror in his clear blue eyes put an arrow straight through my heart.
"Skylar?" he asked in a voice that shook. "Is-is this true?"
Miranda's perfect, pink lips twisted into an ugly smirk. I gulped, begging my heart, beating so hard I could feel the vibrations through my chest, to slow down. It only beat faster.
My glass face obviously said it all. And for once, I wasn't sorry that I couldn't hide anything on it, because even if it cost me everything, the truth was out there. There would be nothing between us, even if the revelation blew us miles apart.
Brandon's face fell about three stories, and he literally fell backward in his crouch, as if his bones buckled under the pressure of his tall frame. He grabbed the edge of the table and squeezed so hard I thought his fingers might pop off as he moved to sit in one of the chairs.
"This is true?" he asked again. "You were––" his voice choked "––pregnant?"
I swallowed hard, trying and failing not to let my glance flutter around the room, to where Jane and Eric sat behind me, silently witnessing the proceedings, to where Miranda, Jared, and Cory watched with naked satisfaction, to where Kieran still stood quietly to the side, recording everything on her phone. She caught my gaze, but made no move to put her phone away. Good, I thought. Someone was doing what needed to be done to keep Brandon safe.
The paper in my hand crackled, and Brandon's eyes zeroed on it. He plucked it from my grasp and examined it again.
"And it was mine?" he asked once he'd determined he wouldn't learn any more from the paper, which he crumpled up and shoved into his jacket pocket.
My cheeks flamed. "Of course it was yours."
"And you never thought to tell me?" Brandon demanded in a low voice that was raising with every syllable. His eyes were suddenly very red around the rims, and his whole body vibrated. "You didn't think to tell me I was going to be a father?"
He swiped angrily at a few stray tears that escaped on the last word. The sight of them caused mine to flow freely all over again.
"I-I didn't mean to––" I started weakly.
"Didn't mean to what? Tell me about my own kid?" Brandon demanded in fractured, painful words. He snatched the paper out of his pocket and scanned it again. "Is this what you used? This mis-to-pro-stol? Is that what kill–what did it?"
I wiped at my tears, which just kept coming. Jane tried to pass a handkerchief over my shoulder, but I pushed it off. I didn't deserve pity right now. I didn't deserve anything but what I was getting.
"I...yes," I said in a splintered voice that didn't feel like my own. "Yes."
The room crackled. Miranda laid her hand back on Brandon's shoulder. I snarled at it this time, but Brandon flung it away when he stood up so quickly that his chair knocked clean over.
