Shock was what she suffered from after that afternoon appointment. It made her blurry and distracted, unable to focus on school, much less her plans moving forward. She didn’t know how to process it all: the idea of this life inside her, and the end of the future she’d planned for herself. College out East. A great job. The kids at school would take gossipy delight in her situation. Now she was that girl: the one who got knocked up, the one who got in trouble. She was stupid and careless. She’d blown up her own bright future as if she’d dropped a hand grenade at her feet.

But that baby! That perfect baby. It was floating inside her, innocent. Her child, not Anthony’s. He’d already taken too much from her. This baby would never be his. She’d never think of it as the product of that awful night on Duck Pond. She’d think of it as fate.

She started to resign herself to her new situation. Not knowing was hard. Now that she knew, she felt strangely focused. Ann always preferred certainty over ambiguity. She was amazed to discover that she was capable of tapping into a deep inner calm.

Somewhere in all the fear and ambivalence, she realized that she could do this. It would suck. It would be hard. It would throw off all the plans she’d made for herself, but she would be fine.

She knew it.

What she wasn’t so sure about was Anthony.

She couldn’t tell him. His threats, his voice, his clammy skin, the smell of whiskey on his breath, the way he moaned, the fiery pain between her legs, how she’d tried to bite through his fingers …

And yet. As wrong as Anthony was to do what he did, she felt that telling him was the right thing to do. Strange as it might sound, she also wanted to talk to an adult, someone who could see their way through the situation. Why would she think Anthony could offer her any kind of assurance? Mostly, she knew she’d need him to help pay to raise the child. She didn’t make much money at Lisa’s Pizza. Her parents would help. They’d be disappointed, but she knew they’d be cool about it. Well, eventually.

She still had the Shaws’ “backup” number at their house in Marblehead. Maureen had given it to her in case of an emergency. If only Maureen had known the full range of emergencies Ann might experience! She called a few times, using the star-key combination to suppress her number, and Maureen answered the phone in her singsong voice. Ann hung up.