She told her mother she was taking a walk. She barely looked up as Rebecca walked out the door, busy with Rebecca’s father and brothers, homework questions, dinner prep, chores. It was a loud, rowdy home. Rebecca had no place there. She served no purpose besides being in the way.
She sat on a bench and looked out at the city skyline, her teeth chattering as a bracing, cold wind whipped around her. Despite the temperature, she unzipped her baggy hoodie, desperate to see it. Her secret. She peeked at her belly, a round orb, pulsing with alien movement. She had no way of knowing if her child would be male or female, but she imagined a little girl. She and her daughter, holding hands, swapping secrets, living in their own shared world. This was her purpose.