Chapter 10: The Heartbeat

Britta's POV

My first ultrasound was on Monday at 10:15, in a clinic room with a paper-covered table.

Pia came with me and took the chair by the window.

She had told her kitchen she was sick, and she had a bag of ginger candy in her pocket.

"If you cry, I'm going to cry," she said. "I'm a line cook. I'll ruin the whole room."

The technician squeezed cold gel across my stomach and turned the screen toward me.

I saw a gray shape no bigger than a lima bean.

I saw a flicker in the middle of it.

"There's your heartbeat," the technician said. "A hundred and sixty. Perfect for eight weeks."

I put a hand over my mouth.

Four years of apps and charts and negative tests.

Four years of Birgit's face at brunch.

Pia was crying already. She wasn't even pretending.

Then the door opened.

Nils stood in the doorway with his coat half off.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I called the clinic. They said it was this morning."

"You can't be in here," I said.

"I know."

"You made me take a test."

"I know, Britta." His voice cracked on my name. "I just want to hear it. Please. I'll go straight after."

Pia stood up with her arms crossed.

I looked at the screen.

The little flicker went on and on.

I thought: it didn't ask to be born into this.

"One minute," I said. "Don't touch anything."

He came to the foot of the table.

The technician turned up the sound.

The room filled with a fast, soft rushing.

Nils pressed both hands over his face.

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