But as her mother had always taught her, there was no point in wishing for things you couldn’t change. You just had to get on with it and make the best choice you could.

Ashley’s current best choice would have been to stick her head under the pillow and stay there, but that would be cowardly, wouldn’t it? Also rude.

What would her mother have said if she could see her now? With Joanna Whitman?

“You were sleeping so deeply I didn’t want to wake you, but I thought you should probably get back to some sort of normal sleep pattern.” Joanna placed a tray on the table by the open doors.

Ashley saw now why she’d heard the ocean and felt the breeze. While she’d been sleeping, Joanna had lifted the blinds and opened the doors. Those doors led directly onto a terrace bordered by a profusion of colorful plants and flowers.

How great would it be to be able to enjoy this without feeling guilty and anxious about everything?

She had so many decisions to make. So many pieces of information to process.

She’d had one plan. Talk to Cliff. That hadn’t gone the way she’d hoped it would.

Of all the scenarios she’d imagined in her head, the one that had never featured was that she might actually kill him. Not that she’d tugged the wheel and landed them in that ravine or anything, but if she’d never met him, been more careful, hadn’t chosen that exact moment to tell him about the pregnancy...

Cliff Whitman was dead because of her.

The thought left her feeling weak and shaky. The police had questioned her and been satisfied with her answers. Cliff was single. She wasn’t underage. There was no reason why she shouldn’t have been in his car. Her choices might be questionable, but they weren’t illegal. It was ruled to be an unfortunate accident.

Ashley forced herself to sit up. Her life had been full of unfortunate accidents.

“I made you something to eat.” Joanna picked up the tray and put it on the bed next to Ashley. “You look pale. Are you feeling terrible?”

Joanna stacked pillows behind her as if she was a child and the unexpected kindness brought a lump to her throat. She felt horribly undeserving of such generosity from this woman.

“Why are you being so nice to me? You must hate me.”

Joanna straightened the bedcovers. “I don’t hate you.”

She would, Ashley thought, if she knew the details. And it made her feel bad because she knew so much more about Joanna than Joanna knew about her.

Guilt gnawed at her insides. She didn’t like holding all these secrets inside her. Could the baby sense them? Was it having a dose of anguish along with its mother?