Clarissa
I continued to tend to Lyla's wounds, carefully cleaning the dried blood from her face. The uneasy truce between us felt fragile, like glass that might shatter at the slightest pressure. Years of rivalry don't simply vanish in a single night, no matter how dire the circumstances.
As I worked, Lyla's eyes suddenly locked on mine with an intensity that made me pause.
"There's life growing inside you," she said quietly.
I avoided her gaze, setting aside the bloodied cloth and rising to my feet. Crossing the room to the small window, I peered out at the darkness, giving her my back.
"Clarissa," Lyla insisted, following me despite her injuries. "I can feel it. You're pregnant."
I rolled my eyes, turning to face her. "I know that," I scoffed. "What woman wouldn't know she's pregnant with her own child?"
