Bella Pov
I was walking through the park when the world started spinning. The trees blurred together. The ground tilted sideways. My legs went weak.
I tried to grab onto a bench but I missed. Everything went black.
When I opened my eyes I was lying on the ground. A woman's face hovered above me.
"Don't move," she said. "I called an ambulance."
"No." I tried to sit up. "I'm fine."
"You collapsed," the woman said. She pressed her hand gently against my shoulder. "You were out for almost a minute. Please, just stay still."
"I have to get up." My voice came out thin and strange. "I have things to do."
"Whatever you have to do can wait." She was firm but kind. Maybe fifty, with silver-streaked hair and worried eyes. "What's your name?"
"Bella."
"I'm Joanne. Bella, you're going to be okay. Just breathe."
Other people gathered around. I wanted to tell them to go away but I couldn't find the words.
My hand went to my stomach. The baby. Was the baby okay.
The ambulance arrived. Paramedics rushed over. They asked me questions. My name. My age. Was I pregnant. How far along.
"Ten weeks," I whispered.
"Any cramping? Any pain?" the paramedic asked. He had a steady voice and steady hands.
"No. I don't think so."
"Okay. That's good. We're going to take good care of you."
They loaded me onto a stretcher. Behind me I heard Joanne call out, "Good luck, Bella. Take care of that baby."
At the hospital they put me in a bed. Machines beeped. A nurse stuck an IV in my arm.
A doctor came in. He was young with tired eyes.
"I'm Dr. Martinez," he said. "When did you last eat?"
I tried to remember. Yesterday morning maybe. Or was it the day before.
"I don't know," I said.
The doctor frowned.
"Your blood pressure is dangerously low," he said. "You're severely dehydrated. Your baby is at risk if you don't eat and rest properly."
The words hit me like a slap. The baby is at risk. Because of me.
Tears filled my eyes. They spilled down my cheeks.
"I'm trying," I said. "I'm trying so hard."
"I know this is difficult," Dr. Martinez said. "But you need to take better care of yourself. Skipping meals isn't an option anymore. Your body is supporting two people now."
"I know that," I said, sharper than I meant to.
He didn't flinch. "I don't say it to make you feel bad. I say it because I need you to understand how serious this is."
"I don't have money for food," I said. "I lost my job."
"There are programs that can help," he said. "The social worker can talk to you."
"I don't want charity," I said.
He was quiet for a moment. "It's not charity. You've paid taxes. Other people have been where you are. The programs exist because sometimes life gets hard and people need a bridge. That's all this is."
I didn't answer. I stared at the ceiling.
A nurse came over. She was older with kind eyes.
"Is the father around?" she asked gently.
I shook my head violently. More tears came.
"No," I said. "There's no one. Just me."
"Do you have family? A friend you can call?"
"My mom passed two years ago. My sister is in another state and we don't really talk." I pressed my lips together. "I know how it sounds."
"It sounds like you've been carrying a lot," the nurse said simply. "For a long time."
They both looked sorry for me. I hated it.
"We're going to keep you for a few hours," Dr. Martinez said. "Get some fluids in you. We'll do an ultrasound, check on the baby."
"I can't pay for this," I said.
"We'll figure it out," the doctor said. "That's not your problem right now."
When they wheeled in the ultrasound machine my heart seized up. The technician pressed the wand to my belly and I held my breath and then suddenly there it was. A tiny flickering light on the screen. A heartbeat. Fast and certain.
"Baby looks good," the technician said. "Strong heartbeat."
I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth. I couldn't speak.
Three hours later they let me go. I signed discharge papers with shaking hands. The nurse gave me pamphlets about food banks.
"Take care of yourself," she said. She squeezed my hand once, quickly.
I walked out into the afternoon sun. I had no car. No money for a taxi. I had to take the bus.
I waited at the bus stop. My legs felt weak. But I stood there because I had no other choice.
The bus came. I got on and found a seat in the back. I pressed my forehead against the window.
A couple sat across from me. Young and happy. The man had his arm around the woman. She was laughing. They looked so in love.
I used to have that. Damian used to hold me like that.
But that was before. Before Karen. Before the cheating. Before everything fell apart.
Another couple got on. The woman was pregnant. Her belly was huge. The man helped her sit carefully. He kissed her forehead.
"You comfortable?" he murmured.
"Stop fussing," she said, but she was smiling.
I looked away. It hurt too much.
I was going to do this alone.
I rubbed my small belly through my shirt.
"I'm so sorry, little one," I whispered. "I'm trying. I'm trying so hard."
The bus reached my stop. I got off slowly. I walked the two blocks to my building.
I climbed the three flights of stairs. Each step felt like climbing a mountain.
I reached my door and pulled out my keys. But when I tried to put the key in the lock I realized something was wrong.
The door was already unlocked. Slightly open.
My heart started racing. I always locked my door. Always.
I pushed the door open slowly.
"Hello?" I called out.
No answer.
I stepped inside. Everything looked normal at first.
Then I saw it.
My prenatal vitamins were on the floor. The bottle was open. Pills were spilled everywhere.
I walked over slowly. I knelt down and picked up the empty bottle. My hands were shaking.
Someone had been in my apartment. Someone had gone through my things.
"Hello?" I called out louder. "Is someone here?"
Silence.
I checked the bathroom. Empty. I checked the bedroom. Empty. The closet. Under the bed.
I was alone. But someone had been here.