e sharp, cracking sound my head

dark

held her newborn twins, her face a mask of triumph. My

rom the doorway, a small, s

w had said, his voice cold.

alling backward down the grand staircase of the house

rsh fluorescent light. The air

place. I kno

d examination table. I'm in

? Are yo

till round with a teenager's softness. Her stomach is flat under

om crying. It's a performa

ce trembling. "Don't make me do this.

t me. I'm ba

and screaming, to get an abortion. The day my family

she needed to finish her Ivy League education, an education I w

sm against me. They t

will be

. The ghost of the pain in my skull i

r face a perfect pictur

ildren. I know this is the beginning of

't know I know. Something that

de, genuine-l

ipping with warmth. "You're ri