Chapter 10: Six Weeks

I pulled on my jeans and went down the stairs barefoot.

"Dean," Simone said behind me from the loft. "Don't."

"I'm not going to do anything. I'm going to look at her."

I unlocked the street door and stepped out onto the cold sidewalk.

A newspaper van was unloading bundles in front of the print shop, and the driver glanced at me and went back to counting.

The white sedan sat across the road with the engine running.

I crossed the street and stopped beside the driver's window.

It came down.

Lacey had been crying.

Her mascara had run, and she had her coat buttoned wrong over her pajama top, and she looked small and tired.

I understood why people believed her.

"You moved fast," she said, looking up at the lit window of the loft.

"How long have you been out here?"

"Since midnight." She sniffed. "I just wanted to see where you were sleeping. Is she nice to you?"

"Why are you here, Lacey?"

She took a breath.

It was a long, shaky breath, the kind that gets ready for a speech.

"I wasn't going to tell you like this," she said. "I was going to tell you at the table on Sunday. I'm pregnant."

The newspaper driver dropped a bundle on the pavement and did not pick it up.

I looked at her face.

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