The overseas call had lasted three hours.
Arianne had been prepared for two. She had blocked off her afternoon, arranging for Aunt Estella to watch the twins, making sure Franz knew she would be unavailable. But negotiations had stretched on, the other party asking for revisions she had already rejected, and by the time she finally ended the call, her back ached from sitting too long and her bladder was protesting for the third time that hour.
At twenty-four weeks, everything took longer. Meetings. Bathroom breaks. The walk from her study to the kitchen. Her body was slowing down in ways she couldn't control, and she was learning to accommodate it. The baby bump was more pronounced now, visible even under the loose blouses she wore to video calls, though she kept the camera angled so the other party wouldn't see. The pregnancy was her own to reveal when she chose.
