CHAPTER 17 — THE THIRD TRIMESTER
Time passed, marked by the changing colors of the leaves outside their window. Autumn had arrived, painting the town in vibrant shades of amber and crimson. Emily’s third trimester brought a new set of challenges—mostly physical discomforts that she welcomed with an almost bizarre sense of gratitude. Swollen ankles and backaches were normal. They were predictable. They belonged to a healthy pregnancy, not a medical emergency.
Her belly was round and heavy now. They had completed the nursery, filling the shelves with books, stuffed animals, and rows of tiny, colorful outfits.
One Saturday afternoon, Emily’s friend Maya came over to help assemble the stroller. Maya had been a cautious visitor over the past few months, always afraid of saying the wrong thing, but today, the atmosphere was relaxed.
“Okay, so according to these instructions, which are clearly written in a language that is not English, this bar connects to slot B,” Maya grumbled, sitting crosslegged on the living room rug, surrounded by plastic wheels and aluminum tubing.
Emily laughed from her comfortable spot on the sofa. “I think you have it upside down, Maya.”
Maya looked at the diagram, then at the stroller piece, and groaned. “Why can't babies just come with handles?” She tossed the instructions aside and looked at Emily, her expression softening. “You look beautiful, Em. Seriously. You look... radiant.”
“I feel big,” Emily smiled, patting her stomach. “But good. Really good.”
“Have you heard anything from... you know?” Maya asked hesitantly, lowering her voice.
Emily knew she meant the Vance family. “No. The restraining orders are permanent. Their lawyers tried to appeal the sentence last week, but the judge threw it out within an hour. They’ve gone quiet. I think they’re trying to sell their house and move away from the scandal.”
“Good riddance,” Maya said firmly, picking up a screwdriver. “They deserved every bit of the fallout. They enabled her for years.”
“They did,” Emily agreed quietly. “But I don't think about them much anymore. Every ounce of my energy is going into this little girl now.”
May you like
As if on cue, the baby gave a powerful kick, visibly shifting Emily’s maternity shirt. Maya gasped. “Whoa! Did you see that? She’s going to be a soccer player.”
“Or a dancer,” Emily smiled, her eyes shining with anticipation. The fear that had defined her midpregnancy was gone, replaced by a fierce, maternal anticipation. She was ready to meet her daughter.
