Chapter 11: Nowhere Left to Run

After we got back from the trip, I felt weak all the time. Food tasted like cardboard.

I tried to ignore it, telling myself it was just exhaustion. But the fatigue lingered, dragging me down. I skipped meals, slept for hours, but nothing helped. My friends noticed, but I brushed off their concern.

At first, I didn’t think much of it.

I’d always been a little run down, a little too thin, a little too tired. I thought it would pass, like everything else. But this was different.

Until I started throwing up for no reason. That’s when I knew something was wrong.

The nausea hit me out of nowhere, leaving me doubled over in the bathroom. I stared at my reflection, searching for answers. My hands shook as I clutched the sink.

Sitting on a bench outside the clinic, my hands shook as I dialed Derek’s number.

The clinic was bright and sterile, the waiting room filled with anxious faces. I clutched my phone, staring at the screen, willing him to answer. My stomach churned with fear.

Beep… beep…

Three calls, no answer.

Each ring felt like an eternity. I watched the seconds tick by, hope fading with each unanswered call. I wanted to scream, to throw my phone.

Just as I was about to hang up, Derek’s impatient voice finally came through: "What is it?"

His voice was sharp, annoyed. I could hear music in the background, laughter and chatter. He was at a party, living his best life, while I sat alone, terrified.

In the background, I heard the rustle of clothes, and Natalie’s sticky, flirtatious voice: "Be gentle…"

Her voice was unmistakable, sugary sweet and dripping with innuendo. I felt my heart shatter, the pain almost physical. I bit back a sob, forcing myself to stay strong.

The words I wanted to say caught in my throat. I swallowed them all.

I stared at the floor, biting my cheek until I tasted blood. I couldn’t let him hear the fear in my voice.

I said nothing and hung up.

The silence was deafening. I stared at my phone, hoping he’d call back, but knowing he wouldn’t. I wiped away a tear, steeling myself for what came next.

Then I dialed another number I knew by heart.

I hesitated for a moment, then pressed call. The number was burned into my memory, a lifeline I never thought I’d need.

This time, someone picked up right away.

"Megan?"

That cool, familiar voice made me want to cry.

Caleb’s voice was calm, steady—a balm to my frayed nerves. I felt a wave of relief, even as the fear lingered.

"St. Luke’s Hospital. OB-GYN. Come sign a form for me…"

I forced the words out, my voice barely above a whisper. I didn’t need to explain—he understood. He always did.