Chapter 6
JADE
The result stares back at me, accusatory.
Two lines.
I’m sitting on the cold bathroom floor of my dorm in Montreal, back pressed against the tub, clutching the test in both hands. I’ve turned it three times already, as if a different angle could change the truth.
Two lines.
Outside, it turned dark without me noticing. Sometime in the last two hours—or has it been longer?—the sun quit, leaving the only light in the room as a thin sliver bleeding under the bathroom door. I haven't moved to flip the switch. Movement feels impossible.
For two weeks, I told myself it was stress.
Exams, bad cafeteria food, the Canadian winters that suck the marrow from your bones.
Every morning, I leaned over the toilet and promised myself: tomorrow it stops, tomorrow you’ll feel better.
Yesterday, I even convinced myself to turn back at the pharmacy door.
Not today.
It can only be him.
I close my eyes and let the night with the rising hockey star flash through my mind.
Cayden Miller, standing beside me in the middle of the cheering crowd as if he had always been there.
His laugh. The way he looked at me—not through me, like most people, but directly at me.
As if I were the only person in the room.
I press a palm against my stomach.
Okay, I think. Okay. You have to tell him.
The alternative is so absurd I don't even let the thought finish. Or should I? He is Hailey’s brother. Our pact, our promise… I take a deep breath and stand up.
My legs carry me back into the room, toward the desk where my phone lies. My hands shake as I dial.
It rings three times. Four.
Then he picks up.
“Hey!” Cayden’s voice is loud, wired, almost drowned out by the noise in the background—music, voices, glass clinking. A party. Of course, a party. “Who’s this?”
“It’s me.” I clear my throat. “Jade. Jade Sterling. Hailey’s—”
“Jade!” He sounds genuinely surprised, and for half a second, I hope everything might be fine. “Hey! What’s up?” A short pause. Someone laughs loudly behind him. “Is Hailey okay?”
“Yes, Hailey is—she’s fine. I actually wanted to talk to you. I… I need to tell you something.”
“What?” The music gets louder; he must have pressed the phone closer to his ear, but his attention is elsewhere. I can hear it. “What did you say?”
“I need to tell you something,” I repeat. My fingers grip the phone so hard my knuckles ache. “Cayden, it’s important.”
“Yeah, sorry, hold on—” A rustle. Muffled noise, like he put his hand over the mic. I hear him talking to someone, too quiet to understand. Then back to me: “Listen, it’s a… bad time. Can you call me back later? Or tomorrow morning?”
Tomorrow morning.
I exhale slowly. In my left hand, I’m still holding the pregnancy test.
“Yes,” I say. “Of course.”
“Great. Thanks, Jade. Really.” He sounds relieved. Already half gone. “I’ll call—”
Then another voice. A woman’s voice, close to the phone, warm and laughing: “Cayden, come on—”
The line goes dead.
I stand in my dark room in Montreal, the phone still pressed to my ear, staring at the wall.
Five minutes. I’ll give myself five minutes to sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the two lines. Then I’ll call again. He’ll pick up. He’ll listen. He just needs to know it’s really important.
I dial again. It rings once. Twice.
Then someone picks up—but it isn't him.
“Hello?” A woman’s voice. The same one from before, slightly impatient. Music and laughter still thumping in the background.
I swallow. “I want to speak to Cayden. I just talked to him, he said—”
“Cayden’s busy right now.” Friendly, but final. The sound of a hand sliding over the microphone, muffled voices—and then the line is silent.
I sit there, the phone on my knees, staring at the display. Call ended. 0:08.
Eight seconds.
The music from the bar next door thumps through the thin walls. Someone honks on the street. The world keeps moving, steady and indifferent.
I put the phone on the desk. Place the test beside it. Then I open the top drawer, drop the test inside, and slide it shut.
Cayden’s busy right now.
Who am I to think he’d make time for me? Or for a family with me?
In that moment, I realize there is only one solution for my situation. And it is built on a lie.