Tilly POV
I don't remember how my mother got me into the tub. But it must have been very difficult with all the screaming and the clawing.
I was clawing at everything—her face, her arms, her eyes. Anything to hold on to. It felt like being dragged to hell.
I must have stayed in the water for hours.
Something about it kept me tethered. Grounded. Like if I stayed still enough, the world would stop spinning.
So I sat there long after mother left to think.
She needed space. To figure out what to do with her whore of a daughter. How not to doom the entire pack. How to keep the secret from the Alpha—and from my father.
She didn't even have the whole story yet.
I wonder if her face would explode when I told her I was carrying my fiancé's brother's baby.
I wonder if my father would ever look at me the same. Kessington doesn't. My mother definitely doesn't.
I wonder if I'll be sane tomorrow. Probably not. I will be a murderer for sure. A baby killer.
