The tropical sun poked through the curtains like a needle. Nicole woke up with a headache that felt like a physical weight.
Beside her, Kenneth was fast asleep, his breathing steady. The memory of the night before hit her in a blurred montage of heat and whispered names. Panic, cold and sharp, washed over her.
What have I done?
She dressed in frantic silence, her hands shaking as she buttoned her blouse. She looked at Kenneth one last time. He looked so peaceful, so unaware that they had just crossed a line they could never un-cross. She wanted to wake him, to hear him say it was okay, but the fear of her father's face flashed in her mind.
Six weeks later, the fear became a reality.
Nicole stared at the two pink lines on the plastic stick in her bathroom. The silence of the mansion felt suffocating. She couldn't tell Kenneth. If he knew, he'd try to be "honorable." He'd drop out of school, work three jobs, and her father would destroy him for "tainting" his only daughter.
She sat on the cold marble floor and made a choice. She would protect Kenneth by disappearing from his life.