“When were you going to tell us that you’re having a baby?” Maeve asks.

“In a couple of weeks.” I turn to her. “Isabella wanted to make sure everything was okay before we told everyone, just in case.”

“We did that,” Stasia says. “It’s understandable. And she and the baby are going to be great.”

I nod and turn back to the TV, hoping they’ll show me the van again. Or better yet, Izzy herself.

She has to be okay. There is no other option.

Chapter 19

~Izzy~

“Are you okay?”

I can’t speak. I can only stare down the front end of the van to the freeway below.

“Izzy, are you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh my God,” Phil says next to me. We’re both perfectly still. “I don’t know if we’re teetering or if we’re hung up on the guardrail.”

“It’s icy.” I swallow hard. “We could slip off.”

I hear him take a long, deep breath. I’m doing my best not to freak the hell out. My heart is hammering, my blood rushing through my ears.

I feel sick, and it has nothing at all to do with the pregnancy.

“I’m pregnant,” I blurt. “Not how I planned to tell anyone, but here we are.”

“Okay, I need you to listen to me, Izzy. Are you listening?”

“Yes. But speak up because it’s hard to hear past the roaring in my head.”

“We’re going to make it out of here just fine. You and the baby are both good. Did you hit your head or anything when we hit the guardrail?”

“No. Why didn’t the airbag go off?”

“Good question. The station knows what happened. We were on-air. They’ve called in help by now.”

“Okay.” I lick my lips. “That makes me feel a little better. And I hear sirens. You’ve been doing this for a long time. Has this happened before?”

“I wouldn’t still be doing this if it had happened before.”

“Great.”

“You did great at cutting off the camera when it all happened.”

“I didn’t want Keegan to see it. That’s what flashed through my head; that if I died today, I didn’t want that in his head for the rest of his life.”

“We’re not dying today. Tomorrow is my wife’s forty-fifth birthday, and I have reservations at her favorite place. We’re finally empty nesters after having kids in the house for more than twenty years. I’m going to enjoy the next forty years with my wife. And you’re going to have that baby and live another eighty years yourself.”

“Right.” I take a deep breath. “Sure. Tell her I said happy birthday, by the way.”

The van slips, just a few inches, but it feels like feet. I scream.

“Okay, this isn’t fun,” Phil says.