Ava was a shadow of her mom as she followed her into the house.

This over-heavy thud of the front door closed behind them, and it was far too noisome in her ears. She weighed her body, as every step was hard. She was still reeling at the hospital, at the thought of the word pregnant and that you will marry him.

Pat didn't ask Ava to sit down.

She placed her handbag on the table in an orderly manner and turned about to look directly at her daughter.

Now, Pat said, calmly but sharply," You are going to do as I tell you to."

Ava swallowed. "Mom"

"No." Pat raised a finger. "You've said enough for today."

Ava closed her mouth. Her hands were shaking next to her.

Pat passed by the girl and began straightening the cushions, which were already straight, adjusting the things that were not necessary. When she was in a temper, that was her job.

"I called a doctor already," Pat went on. "A real one. And not a certain clinic you saw today, you see.

Her heart skipped. "You... you called a doctor?"

Sure, Pat finally turned towards her. "You will have appointments regularly. You won't skip any. I'll come with you."

Ava shook her head weakly. "Mom, I can go alone. I-"

You are not going to do this, Pat said. You have demonstrated that you are not good at making decisions independently.

It was more painful than Ava thought the words would be. Her eyes were stinging, and she did not want to cry. Not now. Not in front of her mom.

Pat took the phone Ava had placed on the table. And this will, she said, remain with me, unless I say the contrary.

"What?" Ava gasped. "Mom, please"

You do not need distractions, you do not, said Pat, coldly. No friends stuffing nonsense in your head. No private chats. School and home. That's it."

The walls were closing in on Ava. "Riley only comes to my assistance.

"Riley's a kid," Pat replied. "And so are you."

Ava pressed her lips tight. Her chest was glued up with every word she wanted to say.

Pat moved closer saying, "It will not be discussed in other places other than our house. Got it?"

Ava nodded slowly.

"You will have your head down," Pat said. You will neither shame this family anymore.

Ava flinched.

Pat sighed, like she was fed up. "Go to your room. Rest. You look awful."

Ava walked away without saying anything. Each of the steps was heavier than the previous one. As she reached her room, she closed the door very softly and leaned against it.

Her breath came out shaky.

This was her life now.

She struggled slowly to the bed and sat down. This time her stomach was twisted not with sickness, but with fear. Fear of the lie she'd told. Even the apprehension of the future that she had already chosen.

As soon as she was out of her shoes, she heard footsteps descending the staircase.

A man's voice.

Her heart skipped painfully.

Marcus.

Ava froze. She remained in silence, listening.

She could hear his footsteps ascending the stairs.

Her chest tightened. Please don't come here. Please.

But now the foot-steps paused at her door.

There was a gentle knock.

"Ava?" The voice of Marcus was heard at the door. "It's me."

Her fingers were gripping the bedsheets. She couldn't answer. No, she thought, she was certain to weep had she spoken.

The door opened slowly.

Marcus was there, high and well-known, and his jacket was still on. His eyes noticed her immediately, and he changed once he saw her.

"Hey," he said softly. "What happened?"

Ava repressed herself from staring at him. The attempt almost made her snivel. He looked worried. Tired. Kind.

And everything she did, did not seem to be what it was.

"I am okay," she answered in a rush, but her voice was so tremulous.

Marcus frowned. He went into the room and closed the door. "You don't look fine."

"I said I am all right," Ava repeated, a little too fast.

Marcus studied her face. "You're pale. You're shaking."

"I'm just tired."

He didn't believe her. She could tell that.

Marcus stood back and inquired, in a whisper, "Why? Is something happening at the hospital?"

Her heart jumped in her ribs.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "It was nothing."

Nothing is likely to get you home with that kind of look.

She turned her back on him and gazed at a window. The daylight was bitter and brisk.

Marcus moved closer. Not too close. No more than enough to make her feel his presence.

You can speak to me, Ava, he said to himself.

The words almost broke her.

She drew her arms into herself. "I really can't."

Marcus sighed softly. Your mom told me you were not feeling well.

Ava's stomach dropped. "She... she told you?"

"She had not told me anything in detail," he said. "But she was... intense."

That was one word for it.

Marcus put himself down so that he looked at her level. "Look at me."

Slowly, Ava turned her head.

His eyes were roving over her face, but stopping at each word, as though he were attempting to read anything written on her features.

"There is something you are trying to cover up," he said.

Her breath caught.

"No, I'm not."

"Ava, I said- here-here, look at me." 

She shook her head quickly. "You don't. Not anymore."

She could not take the words in before they came out.

Marcus stiffened. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Ava said fast. "I didn't mean..."

She stopped. Talking felt dangerous. All the 

words might cleanse away all the lies and secrets. 

Marcus straightened slowly. "Did I do something wrong?"

This broke her heart a little.

"No," she whispered. "You didn't."

Why do you look like you are falling apart then?

Ava bit her lips. Tears blurred her vision. She shook them off with obstinacy.

"I just need rest," she said. "That's all."

Marcus stared at her for some time. His jaw tightened a bit.

"Okay," he said finally. "If that's what you want."

He looked around the door and stopped.

"Ava," said he, now in a lower tone. "You should tell someone, in case you are sick, in case something is wrong."

She did not look and nodded.

He stopped and muttered, "You need not carry all of it yourself."

The door closed behind him.

Ava exhaled a breath that she had not been aware of holding back.

Her hands flew to her stomach.

I am sorry, she said to herself. "I'm so sorry."

Marcus was sitting on the wall down the stairs, his eyebrows drawn.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

And whatever it was, Ava was unprepared to explain to him.

With gradually increasing anxiety, he straightened.

"Ava..." he murmured to himself.

One question rang in his ears and was becoming heavier with every second.

What are you hiding from me?

Ava couldn't sleep that night.

Whenever she shut her eyes, she continued to see the ugly face of her mom. Marriage was a sound that was still ringing in her ears, as if it were, a judge delivering a verdict. Her stomach turned, and her chest ached as though it was feeling so tight that she could not breathe.

Morning came too fast.

Marcus walked in, and she was at the kitchen table staring at a cup of tea that had already gone cold.

"Morning," he said gently.

Ava flinched when he said it. She sat up in a jerk and gave a small smile. "Morning."

Marcus paused. He gazed at her forehead in the same way as he did last night. "Did you sleep at all?"

"Yeah, a little," Ava lied.

He pushed a chair up and sat opposite her. "You still don't look okay."

"I said I was fine!" She said so fast as she wrapped her fingers around the mug, which was cold.

Marcus frowned. "Ava..."

She made a breath, attempting to prepare herself. This was it. She was forced to speak something that was believable. Something simple.

"I'm just stressed," she said. "School's been... a lot."

Marcus tilted his head. "School?"

Yeah, yeah, I said to myself. Exam papers, tests, piles and piles. I guess my body just reacted."

She experienced the guilt striking her.

Her throat closed up, and she would be afraid for a moment that she would choke at the lie. She stared at the table lest he remember that she was lying.

Marcus was quiet.

Ava, he said slowly, school stress does not normally cause one to look like a person is about to fall over.

She laughed nervously. "Well, I guess I'm just weak."

"That's not true," he said firmly.

She shrugged. "Maybe I'm just tired."

Marcus sat back in his chair. You see, you can speak to me, you know.

Her chest hurt.

"I know," she said softly. "But really, it's nothing."

Marcus did not immediately respond. He simply stared at her, his face a question that he was not asking.

Ok, ok, he said at length. "If you're sure."

"I am,"Ava said, but her voice shook.

He got on his feet and, as he left the kitchen, looked back. In case the stress becomes acute, promise that you will complain to someone.

She nodded fast. "I promise."

Another lie.

Marcus walked out of the kitchen, but the burden of his worry remained. When he had gone, Ava dropped her head into her hands.

"I am sorry," she said. To him, to herself, to the life inside her.

She had no time to take a breath of relief when her mom entered the room.

The heels of Patricia tap, tap, tapped.

"You're awake," Patricia said.

"Yeah, Mom."

Patricia looked at the tea that had not been drunk. "You didn't eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat," Patricia said. You no longer think about yourself alone.

Ava stiffened.

On the counter, Patricia picked up her phone. "I've made a call."

Ava's heart skipped. "A call?"

"Yeah." Patricia didn't look at her. "I called Mark."

The world tilted.

"You did what?" Ava rose so quickly it sounded as though her chair was scraping the floor.

Patricia swung around, her face composed and without expression. He has a right to be aware of what is expected of him.

"Mom, no!" Ava shook. "You can't just-"

"I can, and I did," Patricia said. Responsibility is required in this situation.

Ava's hands trembled. "You didn't even ask me."

Patricia said coldly, There's nothing to ask. "You're pregnant. He's the father. He'll do the right thing."

Ava found she was unable to breathe. "You don't know that."

Patricia's eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"

"Nada," Ava said quickly. I only, it is all too fast.

"It is too late, Ava, it is too late," Patricia replied. "Mark is coming over today."

Ava's stomach dropped. "Today?"

"Yeah."

Ava shook her head, becoming panicked. "I'm not ready. I have not even spoken to him decently.

That was something you should have thought of before, Patricia said. I will not allow you to bring a bastard child into the world.

"I did not ask you to," Ava said.

Patricia's face hardened. "Lower your voice."

Ava closed her lips. Her heart beat was sore from pondering.

"When's he coming?" Ava asked quietly.

"This afternoon," Patricia replied. "And you'll be polite. You won't embarrass me."

Patricia walked out of the kitchen after giving her phone back to her. She seemed to have finished the conversation.

Ava stood there, frozen.

Mark.

She had not digested all this herself, and now here she had to encounter him. Explain. Lie. Convince.

Her phone buzzed in her hand.

She looked down at the screen.

A message.

Mark: Your mother tells us that we have to speak.

Her breath caught.

The words were lost in the tears in her eyes.

She sat back into the chair and gazed at the message as though it would fade away in case of prolonged observation.

She heard herself mumbling something horrible in her heart.

This was not her only lie.

And it was soon to become a lot worse.

Ava listened to the doorbell being rung, and her heart sank.

She sat in her room, on a chair by the edge of her bed and was twisting her fingers. Her hands were sweaty, and her heart was beating too wildly. She had been anticipating this, but now that it had come, she would have wished to vanish.

Come down, Patricia called sharply from down the stairs.

Ava shut her eyes for a second. "Be strong," she told herself. "Just get through this."

She got up and walked out of her room. Every step on the staircase was a step into obscurity, as though she were going into something which she could never get out of.

Mark was standing in the living room.

He was not any different; he had his curly hair slightly dishevelled, his hands thrust into his pockets, but he was tense in his face. His eyes spotted Ava at once, and his look was altered by perplexity to surprise.

"What is this about?" Mark asked, his voice tight. "Your mom said it was urgent."

Patricia folded her arms. "You two need to talk. Alone."

Ava's head snapped up. "Mom-"

Patricia put a finger to her lips. "I'll be in the kitchen." She turned to Mark. "Do the right thing."

Then she went away and left the door between the living room and kitchen half open.

The silence that ensued was heavy and uncomplimentary.

Mark stared at Ava. "Okay," he said slowly. "What's going on?"

Ava swallowed hard. Her throat felt dry. "We should sit."

"No," Mark said quickly. "Just tell me."

Her heart beat in her breast. She put her arms around herself as she suddenly felt cold.

"I'm pregnant," she said.

The words hung in the air.

Mark blinked once. Then again. "What?"

I am pregnant, Mark then burst out into a sharp laugh of disbelief. "That's not funny."

"I'm not joking."

The smile faded from his face. "No. No, that's not possible."

Ava looked down at the floor.

Mark took a step closer. "Ava, I haven't seen you in weeks. We broke up."

"I know."

Then how-- He hesitated, and slowly the dawn of knowing came to his eyes. "Wait. Are you serious right now?"

Ava nodded.

Mark passed his fingers through his hair and stamped his feet on the floor. "This doesn't make sense. Why am I only hearing about this now?"

"I was scared," Ava said quietly.

"Scared?" Mark turned to her sharply. "I'm finding out like this? From your mother?"

"I didn't know how to tell you."

Mark stopped pacing. "Whose is it?"

The query came to her like a slap.

Ava's chest tightened. This was the moment. The prevarication she had already given her father and mother now had to be repeated.

"It's yours," she said.

Mark stared at her.

He did not speak a word for a long time. His cheeks were pale, his gaze roaming on her, and trying to find in her something inconsistent.

"Mine?" he repeated slowly.

"Yes."

But we were hardly together, he said. "And you left me."

"I know," Ava said quickly. "But it happened before that. Before everything ended."

Mark shook his head. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I needed time," she whispered.

Mark again laughed, but it was without humour. "Time? Ava, this is a baby. You don't just take time."

I know, I know, I know, she said, breaking her voice. "I know I messed up."

He stopped in front of her. "Are you sure?"

The heart of Ava was beating in her ears. "Yes."

Mark studied her face. "Look at me."

Slowly, she lifted her eyes.

"Don't lie to me," he said. Not about anything, just like this.

I am not lying, she said to herself, and the idea of it showed me upside-down pain.

Mark took a step backwards and sat on the couch with a heavy sigh. He stooped, giving his elbows to his knees.

"This is insane," he muttered. I did not even know that you were unwell or anything.

I did not want anybody to know yet, Ava said.

"So what now?" Mark asked. Your mom called me already,but I had something to do.

Ava's stomach clenched. "She... she wants us to talk."

"That's an understatement."

Ava trembled and brought her hands near. "Mark, please. I need you to understand."

"Understand what?" he snapped. That you are pregnant, and only decided to have me dropped afterwards?

Well, I was not out to hurt you, said Ava. "I just didn't know what to do."

Mark looked up at her. His anger was clear now. Do you not know what this means?

"I do," she whispered. "That's why I'm terrified."

He stood up again. "And you're telling me it's mine."

It is.

Mark searched her face again.  

Why does it look like you want to cry?

"Because I want to," Ava said. Tears filled her eyes. "I'm scared. I do not want it to become something ugly.

Mark's jaw tightened.  

Then you ought to have done that before.

Ava wiped at her eyes.  

"I know. But just now I want you to assist me.

"Help?" Mark repeated.  

"What kind of help?"

She took a shaky breath. 

"I need you not to deny this. Not in public. Not in front of my parents."

Mark stared at her.  

"You want me to pretend?"

"No," she said quickly.  

"I want you to stand by me. At least for now."

"For now?" he echoed.

Yes, "Please. Make no statement that will ruin me," just say nothing.

Mark crossed his arms.  

"You're asking a lot."

I know, she said, and her voice was hardly maintaining itself.  

But deny it, and my life will be ruined.

"That is dramatic," Mark said, but there was a wavering in his voice.

"It's not," Ava said.  

"You don't know my mother."

Mark let out a long breath.  

"This is too much."

Ava stepped closer.  

"Mark, please. I'm begging you."

He stared at her, gazed at her, and there was a change in his face. Not anger. Not kindness. Something uncertain.

"Say it again," he said.

"Say what?"

"That the baby is mine."

Ava wavered only a fraction of a second.

Mark noticed.

His eyes narrowed.  

"Why did you pause?"

"I didn't," Ava said quickly.

"Yes, you did."

She shook her head.  

"I'm just tired."

Mark took a step closer to her. His voice lowered.  

"Ava, look at me."

Her heart was pounding, and she looked him in the eye.

"Swear to me that baby is mine."

Ava opened her mouth.

And the falsehood, big and threatening, lay on her tongue.