I’m dying.

This is the most hellish, brutal, horrific pain I have ever felt. The deaths of my mother, my grandmother, Rita, Lucy, and Charlotte along with the agony of being blown up, of losing my hearing…all the pain I’ve ever experienced rolled up into a neat package can’t compare to this.

“What gave you the idea that you meant anythin’ to me?”

“Th-that ni-night,” I stammer, terrified and breathless. “At Bo-Bo-Bougainvillea. When we kissed.”

“The night I gang-banged a bunch of groupies in the back of the van? That night? When I saw you, I had never seen a weirder, more gawky-lookin’ teenage hippie. I wasn’t even sure you were a girl the first time I saw you! I thought you were a dude with long-ass hair. You headbanged like a dude, that’s for sure.”

In shame, I lower my eyes to his feet. Burning tears pour silently down my face.

“You have been a pain in my ass,” he spit at me. “You’re a danger to everyone around you, and I won’t have you out in society where you could harm my wife and child.”

Wife and child…

“You are a stain upon my life. If you don’t stop this madness, you will never get out of this white chamber—and personally, I hope you never do. I hope you sit in here and rot for all eternity for the crap you’ve put me through, put my wife through.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“I don’t ever want to have to come back here and set you straight again, Miss MacGregor. I have a wonderful life, far, far away from you.”

He straightens, looking down at me with disgust and loathing, with the wrath of a Dark God of the Universe. Even now, he’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen, and another part of my soul blackens with self-hatred. I want to hate him, too. Maybe one day, I will.

With a sneer, he turns and exits the white padded room, and the door swiftly flies shut. I hear a dead bolt slide, and six clicks of extra locks follows.

One for each year I’ve waited for him.

Walls, ceiling, floor—they are all bright white, blindingly white…

My eyes opened, finding myself in bed in the living room on our side of the Plantation House, my face soaked with tears, the rest of my body slicked with an oily sweat.

Phil wasn’t in bed.

A sick quivering stole its way through me, and I stood up, only to have the world tilt and sway beneath my feet. My belly ached, and my throat was sandpaper rough. My bearings came upon me, and I walked to the kitchen and got a cold glass of water.

Opaque dawn light filtered through the blinds and the kitchen window.

Slowly, I made my way through the sliding panel door to the living room on the other side. For a few minutes, I stared at the sight of Alys wrapped in Phil’s arms, splayed across his chest like a gaping wound. At the other end of the couch sat Jason, snoring lightly.

Well, at least they have their clothes on.

The sight of my best friend snuggled into Phil’s chest was enough to make my belly cramp with fury and loathing. Jealousy over the fact that another woman was sleeping in Phil’s arms, innocent or otherwise, burned its way through every vein and capillary, poisoning me, turning me rotten from within. I could taste the hatred like a slime slick on my tongue.

Spinning on my heel, I went back to Phil’s half, found my phone, and called Gavin.

“Kenna?” he answered after the fifth or sixth ring.

“Hey, Gavin. Sorry to wake you.”

“No, no. It’s cool. Are you okay?”

“No, I think I’m getting sick. Do you think you could take over the therapy for Phil and Flipper for a few days? I, uh…I’m really feeling ill.”

“Of course. No problem. What time should I be there?”

“I usually start with Phil around nine or ten.”

“Okay. Do you need me to bring you anything? Soup?”

Gavin’s loving concern over my welfare chipped at my frigid loathing for the universe.

“No…I’m making myself scarce for a while. Don’t need to spread this shit, you know?”

“Well, it’s probably already too late,” he joked.

“Yeah, probably,” I agreed, trying to sound humorous.

After we hung up, I went upstairs, grabbed my duffel bag, and started shoving everything I could find that I might need over the next few days into it. Then, I made my way back downstairs, into the other half, and rudely shook Alys awake.

“Sweet Pea?” she asked, groggily pushing herself up and rubbing her face.

“Really?” I scoffed.

Looking at where she was, her face registered her shock. I got a swift stab of satisfaction, knowing she was horrified with herself.

“Oh God, Kenna!” she whispered. “You know—you know!—that this isn’t what it looks like!”

“What I know, Alys, is that you slept all over my fiancé last night. I just wanted you to know that I’m getting the hell out of here.”

“Kenna, wait—”

“I’m done waiting. I did years of it, all for it to be rubbed in my face as a waste of fucking time.”

“You don’t mean that!” she whispered loudly, jumping to her feet. “Phil loves you! Only you! And me crashing here was a complete accident. You know I would never—and neither would he!”

“I don’t care, Alys. Last night, he showed you more compassion than he’s shown me in months. It made me realize that maybe I need to walk away from this. Now. Before I drown in both our misery. If he wants to make himself feel better by consoling his best friend’s widow, who am I to say no?”

“You are his Baby Girl!” she hissed, hysterical.

“I don’t feel like much more than bayou-backwater trash,” I told her. “Gavin’s coming over to do their therapy today. Let them know, would you?”

With that, I walked out the front door, and I didn’t look back.

I totally puked in the bushes though.

An eerie calm came over me as I made my way through my backyard. The time had come. I had known it from the moment that disembodied voice in my white nightmare told me they had taken away my Little Zephyr.

The fetus was dead.

Already, I felt the cramping, the aching in my lower back. I knew what to expect, and it wouldn’t be necessary to go to the hospital. I was a little over nine weeks along, and once the bleeding started, it would just be a matter of waiting for the miscarriage to run its course.

Earlier in the week, I’d prepared for this. With Little Zephyr’s life nearly snuffed, I would have no guilt in smoking a shit-ton of weed for the pain, and I’d stashed a mad amount of mega pads under my bathroom sink. I was good to go.

What I hadn’t counted on was Lili meeting me in the kitchen so early. I was fixing myself a cup of tea when she groggily traipsed in.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice rough with sleep but her intention sweet.

“I live here,” I replied, feeling irritated.

“Yeah, but you don’t live here, live here,” she stated, going about putting a pot of coffee on.

“I’m going to be here for a few days. I need—”

Deep inside me, there was a faint pop, and a rush of fluid flushed out of my vagina. Gasping, I pulled a full-body twitch. Lili’s eyes dropped to my crotch and widened, taking in the spreading stain through the denim of my shorts.

“Did you just piss yourself?” she whispered.

I was about to tell her off when a cramp so intense seized my abdomen and dropped me to my knees.

“Kenna!” she cried, throwing herself down on the floor and wrapping her arms around me. “Help!”

This is not the way it’s supposed to go! I’m supposed to be alone, in my room, with no one the fucking wiser!