BONUS EPILOGUE VICTORIA
“Are you serious?” I ask.
Dr. Jenkins nods. “Looks like eight weeks, three days along.” She hands me the picture the ultrasound technician took of my uterus, and it looks like a bunch of static. If I squint, I can make out a couple of round shapes that look like part of a snowman in a blizzard, and that little snowman will eventually be our baby.