The sitting room feels like a tomb.
Mother sits on the sofa, spine rigid, hands clenched so tightly in her lap that her knuckles are white. Feifei sits beside her, face buried in her hands, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Father stands near the window, the pregnancy test results in his hand, reading them with that same terrible blank expression.
"Kneel," he says without looking up from the paper.
I kneel in the center of the room.
The hardwood floor is cold and unforgiving against my knees, within seconds they start to ache.
Father sets the test results on the side table. "Five weeks," he says flatly. "According to this, you've been pregnant for five weeks."
I don't answer.
He turns to look at me finally. "Five weeks ago, where were you?"
My throat closes.
"Answer the question."
"I... I don't remember."
"You don't remember where you were five weeks ago." His voice is perfectly calm, perfectly controlled. "Or you don't remember who you were with?"
"Both."
"I see."
