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“And what?”
I swallowed hard. “Your face appeared in my head at the same time,” I murmured.
“That makes sense. I lent you a baseball bat last night so you could protect yourself,” Jensen replied. “So I guess your brain knows to associate the image of the bat with me.”
“Oh.” Guilt gnawed at my guts. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything.”
“It’s fine. This is good,” Jensen said, eyes flickering with hope. “It means things are starting to come back to you. It might be confusing, but it’s still happening.”
I closed my eyes again, straining to recall something. Anything. I lifted a hand and touched my forehead again, picturing a baseball bat swinging toward my face. Who was holding it? What made them decide to hit me?
An unexpected face popped into my mind, and my eyes snapped open. “Oh my god,” I murmured, pulse racing. “It was me.”
“You?” Jensen’s forehead crinkled. “You mean you hit yourself?”
I nodded mutely, temporarily stunned into silence. Now that I’d finally made the connection between the baseball bat and my self-inflicted injury, the rest of my memories were flooding back to me as if a dam had broken somewhere in my brain.
I remembered finding the letter in my room, exploring the tunnel, creeping down there at midnight, finding the grotto… and more. So much more. I remembered the conversation I had with Zara, Ali, and Dr. Carmichael, and the fear that gripped me as I slipped into unconsciousness after they held me down and pricked me with a hypodermic needle.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I placed a shaky hand on my abdomen. I felt like I might vomit at any moment. The weight of the secret, the knowledge of what had been done to me, was crushing me.
“Jensen,” I choked out. “I’m pregnant.”
His eyes widened. “What?”
“I’m pregnant,” I repeated in a whisper, heart hammering so hard it hurt.
Jensen drew in a quick, harsh breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. Then he exhaled deeply, leaned forward, and grabbed my hand again. “Not gonna lie, that’s a real shock. But I’m here for you. Whatever choice you make, I’ll support you all the way,” he said, looking me right in the eye. He paused for a beat, scratching his jaw with his free hand. “I’m guessing it happened on Halloween?”
“It’s not yours, Jensen. But thank you for saying that.”
“Oh.” A mix of hurt and confusion flashed in his eyes. “Right.”
“I’ll explain everything.” I lifted a shaky palm and haltingly recounted everything that happened to me last night. Everything I saw, everything I heard, everything I felt.
The more I spoke, the redder Jensen’s face grew. By the time I was finished, a vein was popping out on his forehead, and his lips were pressed together so firmly they looked like a white slash.
“That’s what the higher-ranking members are hiding?” he said, eyes narrowing. His hands were balling on his lap, clenched so tightly his knuckles were visible. “A fucking baby mill?”
“Yes. They think they own me because of that contract my dad signed,” I said. “I’m just an incubator to them.”
Jensen abruptly stood. “They won’t get away with doing this shit to you. I’m calling the cops.”
“Wait.” I reached out to grasp at his jacket sleeve. “You can’t do that.”
“I have to, Amerie,” he said, eyes blazing with fury. “I won’t let these sick fucks hurt you any more than they already have.”
“But we don’t know which cops are in their pocket. They have a whole bunch of them, remember?”
Jensen’s nostrils flared. “I’ll go to the media, then.”
“Please, Jensen. Just think about this for a minute.” I lifted my palm again. “If you try to expose the society right now, you’ll get yourself in trouble with them, and you know that won’t end well for you. They’ll do everything they can to discredit you—maybe even hurt you—and they’ll get away with it too, because there’s no proof to back up any of my claims. We need something solid.”
Jensen’s eyes widened, and he gestured to my stomach. “The baby isn’t proof enough?”
“You know what the society will do with that. They’ll spread rumors about me, calling me a slut. They’ll say I don’t know who the father of my baby is, and that I decided to make up the whole Rosmerta story for attention because I’m so ashamed about it,” I said. “I mean, what’s more believable to the average person? That a promiscuous teenage girl accidentally got pregnant while sleeping around, or that an evil secret society artificially inseminated her while she was unconscious at a doctor’s appointment?”
“Fuck.” Jensen grimaced, and he sagged in the chair again. “You’re right.”
