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November—”
    “I’m eight weeks pregnant.”
    “Eight.”
Deborah was belatedly hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
    “I didn’t trust you’d let me do it.”
    “
Let
you. Jill, you do your own thing. Always.”
    “But I want your approval.”
    Deborah studied her sister’s face. “You don’t look different. Have you been sick?”
    “A little here and there, mostly from excitement.”
    “And you’re sure you’re pregnant?”
    “I’ve missed two periods,” Jill said, “and I’ve seen the baby on a sonogram, Deborah, seen that little heart beating. My doctor pointed it out on the screen.”
    “What doctor?”
    “Anne Burkhardt. She’s in Boston—and please,” Jill grew serious, “don’t tell me you’re angry that I didn’t get a name from you, because I wanted this totally to be my choice. We both know Dad’ll be a problem. But hey, I’ve already disappointed him in so many things, what’s one more? But you—you had no part in this, which is what I’ll tell Dad—but I’m not telling anyone until I pass the twelve-week mark.”
    “You just told me,” Deborah argued, “so I do have a part in it, or at least in keeping the secret. What do I say if he asks?”
    “He won’t. He won’t have a
clue
until I hit him in the face with it. He doesn’t think I’m capable of sustaining a relationship with a man, much less having a baby, and maybe he’s right about the man part. I’ve tried, Deborah, you know I have, but I haven’t met a single guy in the last few years who was remotely husband material. Dad would have stuck me with someone I detest just for the sake of having a baby the traditional way. But my God, look at you. You played by all the rules, and now you’re a single parent, too.”
    Deborah didn’t need the reminder. It made her think of her failings, which brought the accident front and center again. She held her hair back from her face. “Why are you telling me now? Why in this awful minute when I have so much else on my mind?”
    “Because,” Jill said, suddenly pleading, “like I said on the phone, you’re more human after last night, so I’m thinking that right now you’ll understand and still love me.”
    Deborah stared at her sister. Jill had just added a complication to her already complicated life, but a new baby was a new baby. Reaching out, she took her sister’s hand. “Do I have a choice?”
             
    Grace loitered just
beyond the school fence, gnawing on her cuticle until the final bell rang. Then, clutching her jacket tightly around her, she ran down the path and, joining the other stragglers, dashed up the stairs, into the high school. Keeping her head down, she slipped into her homeroom seat and barely heard the announcements until the principal said that Mr. McKenna had been hit by a car, was in the hospital, and deserved a moment’s prayer. Grace gave him that and then some, but stole out of the room the instant the bell rang again and, squatting in front of her locker, tried to make herself invisible. Friends stopped for a few seconds to chat.
Did you know that Jarred has mono? Why is Kenny Baron running for student body president? Are you going to Kim’s party Saturday night?
Grace only rose when it was seconds before her first class. Megan and Stephie came up and flanked her before she reached the door.
    “We kept trying to
call
you,” Megan hissed.
    “Where
were
you?” asked Stephie.
    “Kyle told me it was
your mom’s
car that hit Mr. McKenna.”
    “Were you there? What did you see, Grace? Was it
gross
?”
    “I can’t talk about it,” Grace said.
    “I thought I’d
die
when I saw your mom sitting outside,” Stephie muttered.
    “How much does she know,” Megan asked Grace. “Did she notice anything?”
    “No,” Grace said.
    “And you didn’t tell her?” Stephie asked.
    “No.”
    “And you
won’t
tell her,” Megan ordered.
    “No.”
    “Well, that’s good. Because if word gets back to my parents,