Alice's apartment felt out of sync with the day. A faint light hung over the buildings. Inside, everything appeared too calm, as if the walls were waiting for something. The air felt heavy, as if someone were about to say something they'd regret.
Jill sat stiffly on the old couch, her legs tucked in and her fists clutching the hem of her sweatshirt. Alice stood across from her, arms crossed—not in anger, but as people do when they fear what might happen next.
"Just tell me the truth," Alice asked. Her voice was not harsh, yet it held quiet insistence. "I am your friend. "I have always been your friend."
Jill's attention shifted around. "I'm not pregnant, Alice! Maybe there was a mix-up... or something!"
Alice blinked slowly. "I've known Doc for years," she said with pinched brows. "He doesn't make those kinds of mistakes."
"Why won't you believe me?" Jill responded sharply, her voice cracking. "You are the only one I have, Alice. I would not lie to you."
Jill's eyes were already wet, and her breath was irregular. She sobbed softly in her throat before bursting forth. Although she hid her face, the entire room could hear her every sound.
Alice leaned forward, more compassionate now. "Swear to me, Jill." Her voice dropped. "Swear you never had unprotected sex."
"I swear," Jill replied through tears, gasping on each word like glass. " I swear, Alice. There must be something wrong with the test."
Alice was silent for a while.
"So," she finally asked, "What do we do now?"
Jill wiped her cheeks with her sleeve, her voice steady but yet trembling. "We try another hospital."
Alice glanced toward the window. The light was almost gone. "It's getting dark."
"I don't care," Jill replied. "I need to know now.
Alice paused. "Alright," she replied. "Let's go."
By the time they arrived at the second hospital, dusk had darkened into night, and the streets were mostly empty. Jill sat with her knee bouncing while Alice stood beside her, arms folded, waiting for the second result.
Then came the second test. A nurse approached and handed her the results. She scanned the paper—there it was, the second confirmation.
She didn't wait to hear the nurse speak. She stood, marched out, and pushed the double doors open so forcefully that they rattled.
Alice ran after her, the paper in her hands fluttering. Shouting, "Wait!
"Jill, wait! What are you doing? "she yelled.
Jill's expression was harsh, her mouth clenched. "I'm going to another hospital," she said, already walking.
"This is the second one, Jill!" Alice caught up with her. "They said the same thing!"
"It's not true," Jill replied. "They are all wrong. There's something wrong with each of them.
"We can't keep pretending this isn't happening."
"You don't know me better than I know myself!"
Alice stopped walking. "You're right," she said, her voice low. "But you're acting like I'm the enemy."
"If you won't help me," Jill yelled over her shoulder, "I'll do it alone."
Then she was gone.
Jill returned just before midnight. The knock on the door was light yet urgent. Alice opened it to find her standing there, eyes blazing, face streaked with dried tears, and shoulders sagging.
"I went to three more," Jill said before Alice could ask. "They all said the same thing."
Alice didn't say anything; she pulled her in.
Inside, she guided Jill to the couch like a child asleep after a nightmare. Jill sank into the cushions, curling in on herself.
Alice sat beside her. "Jill," she asked gently, "what's going on?"
And that's when everything broke open.
"It started with these dreams," Jill remarked, her voice low and shaky. "Three nights." I always woke up wet. It felt like someone had been there with me. It felt like something had occurred to me.
Alice's face tightened.
"You mean like an intimate?" Alice asked gently.
"Yes, it always seemed real. It no longer feels like a dream. It was all around me, soaking into my skin."
"I told you," Jill continued. I told you about it. I claimed to have found something unusual, but you assured me there was nothing to worry about."
"I thought it was just one of those weird sleep things," Alice said, almost apologetically. "I didn't think it meant…"
"It wasn't normal," Jill said, holding her arms like they might drift away. "It felt real, Alice. Every time I had those dreams, it felt real." Jill yelled.
Silence lingered between them like a third presence in the room.
Alice looked away and then asked, "Are you saying someone's been visiting you without your consent?"
Jill gave a helpless nod. "I don't know how. I don't know who."
"My God," Alice whispered.
"I can't tell my mom. She'll... she'll lose it." She sobs softly.
"We'll figure it out before she does," Alice said, rubbing her back. "But we need to act fast."
Jill stared up at her with a swollen eye. "What are we going to do?"
Alice didn't blink. "We'll terminate the pregnancy."
Jill was shocked.
"You mean... an abortion?" Jill whispered.
Alice nodded.
Jill's voice dropped. "But… It's a sin."
"Everything's a sin, Jill," Alice remarked, with a tired laugh that did not reach her eyes.
Jill frowned. "I don't know if I can."
"You're carrying something you didn't ask for," Alice said. "If you leave this, you're alone. What are you going to tell people? That it was the Holy Ghost?"
Jill winced. "I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm confused."
Alice softened again. "I know. I'd be, too."
There was another silence.
"Nothing's going to happen to me, right?" Jill asked. Her voice was low.
Alice took her hand. "You'll be okay. I promise."
A pause.
"Can we do it now?" Jill asked.
Alice sighed. "It's too late tonight. We'll do it Tomorrow."
Jill gazed out the window.
"Anna will be worried about you," she said softly. "Go home, get some rest. We need to be ready for tomorrow."
Jill gave a quiet nod in response.