“We’re trying to get Rosalie help,” Lillian
said quietly as we stopped outside of a closed door. “She’s just shut down.
Please, don’t push too hard.”
“Before I go in there, why didn’t Rosalie
terminate the pregnancy?” I asked.
“By the time we found out, it was too late,”
Lillian answered. “Despite Rose not eating much food, she was gaining weight,
particularly in the middle. We brought her to the doctor and she had a panic
attack when they wanted to go a pelvic exam. They gave her a mild sedative and
we discovered she was just over five months pregnant.”
“Normally, they give the morning-after pill in
the case of …” I trailed off.
“It’s not a 100% effective,” Lillian said, her
arms crossed over her chest. “Obviously.”
“My apologies, Lillian,” I whispered. “I …”
“It’s not your fault, Bella,” Lillian breathed,
relaxing and giving me a pained smile. “I just hate what those monsters did to
my baby girl. She’s pregnant with her own baby girl that she won’t even
acknowledge …” She opened the door to a darkened room. “Maybe, you’ll have more
luck than we did.”
I nodded sadly, stepping into the room. The
walls were decorated with a soft pink and her furniture was black and white. Remnants
of her last bit of innocence. Curled up underneath the comforters was an
unmoving lump. I made my way into the dark room, sitting down on the chair next
to the bed. The covers shifted and I was greeted with a pair of empty blue
eyes. “Hello,” I said, quietly and evenly. “My name is Bella.” She blinked
slowly, her face impassive. “And no, I’m not any sort of counselor or therapist. I’m not here
to shrink you.” Her brows quirked.
I leaned back, picking up one of the books
stacked on her nightstand. It hadn’t been opened. “This book is really good.
You should consider reading it. I really like the aspect of people living on
the moon. Though, Levana was a raging bitch. You don’t know much about her in
this book …”
Rosalie shifted, her lips pursed. Her hand
moved to her stomach but she pulled it
away like she’d burned her palm. Her eyes slammed shut and she rolled over,
turning away from me.
“I’m here because we have a mutual acquaintance,”
I said. “Someone who is very worried about you and loves you very much.” She
shook her head. “I’m here with …”
“N-N-N-No,” she said, her voice raspy from disuse. “I’m n-n-n-not w-w-w-worthy. N-N-N-No l-l-l-love.”
Lillian Hale
Rosalie's bedroom
Rosalie Hale
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