~Jennie’s~

“I just want eggs. That’s it. Just eggs that don’t taste like corporate pity.”

The mansion is too quiet. Even the tiles feel cold under my bare feet. My robe sticks to my skin, and my belly feels like it’s carrying more than a child. It feels like it’s holding every ounce of stress I’ve swallowed this week. My fingers are swollen. My back already hurts. And for once, I don’t want anyone fussing around me. I just want to make my own damn breakfast.

The kitchen is bright. Sunlight spills through the window above the sink. I roll up my sleeves and tie my hair into a messy...