Perhaps the real victim in all this was Gordon, ignorant of every pulsing tension around him, unaware just how quickly the world he idolized was going to change, how the child she carried might not even be his child. She should pity him; he deserved her compassion. But all she wanted to do in that moment was slam her knuckles into his face. Just you wait, she thought. Her body, having steeled itself for days, felt prepared for battle, sharp and vicious, ready to pounce on whatever came next.
