Page 304 of What We Brave

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Reid's quiet now. Staring at the stick on the counter. His hands are gripping his knees. The bounce has stopped entirely.

That's what scares me. Not the pacing, not the rambling. When Reid goes still, the thing he's feeling is too big for his body to burn off.

1:03.

"If it's positive," he says. Quiet. No jokes. "This is real. We'd be responsible for a whole person."

"Yeah," I say.

"A tiny person who needs us for everything. Who can't — who depends on us completely."

"That's generally how babies work," Laine says, but her voice is barely there.

0:45.

Reid stands. Steps to the sink. He doesn't look at the stick. He watches the numbers on Laine's phone counting down.

His hand is trembling. Just a slight tremor in his fingers where they grip the edge of the porcelain.

He wants this. I know he wants this. He's wanted it since the dayhe met her — the noise, the chaos, the house full of people. He wants to fill the space that's been empty since Jared.

And I want?—

I don't let myself finish the thought. Not yet. Not until we know.

Laine's pulse is ticking against my forearm. Fast. Too fast.

0:10.

0:05.

0:03.

The timer goes off. Bright, cheerful marimba chime bouncing off the tile.

Nobody moves.

"Okay." Laine reaches out and silences the phone. Her hand is shaking. "Someone look."

Reid swallows. His Adam's apple bobs. He reaches for the stick. His fingers fumble against the plastic.

He flips it over.

He goes still.

The faucet drips once into the basin.Plink.

"Reid." Laine's voice cracks.

He looks up. Hazel eyes wide, glassy, blown completely open. He doesn't say a word. Just turns the stick around and holds it out.

Two pink lines.

Dark. Solid. Unmistakable.

The air goes out of my lungs. All of it. One hard rush that leaves me hollow.

My legs go.

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