"You're insane," I tell Franny as I watch her dressing that night.

"Why?" she wants to know, looking over her every angle in our shared bedroom mirror. "I think he'll like it..." She adjusts her black strapless top then, making sure that it doesn't show an inch of her midriff, and pulls down her black skirt in an attempt for it to reach her knees. "I mean, he will like it, won't he?"

I rolled my eyes. "Jay Langdon owns the hottest restaurant in the area," I replied, punching my pillow and running my hands over my stomach. "Plus, he's older than you..."

"So?" Franny asks, adjusting the curls she'd put into her red hair that night before crossing over towards her door, where she stored her shoes, and chose a pair of black heels. "Liam was older than you, and you still fucked him."

"Whoa, hold on a minute," I said, straightening up then and finding it difficult to do so. "Have you actually fucked Jay?"

Franny scoffed. "No, of course not."

"Franny," I said, my voice firm.

Franny slipped on her heels and peeked over her shoulder at me, knowing that she couldn't get away with those four words. "A couple of hand jobs, okay? Oh, and I gave him a blowie last week when we went to that club."

"Jesus, god!" I cried out, putting my hands over my stomach. "She can hear you, you know?!" I said, fixing Franny with a look.

She giggled, tossing her hair with that Gallagher attitude and walked over to her dresser, where her jewelry box was. "Yeah, I know, Iana. I had a baby, too."

I sighed. "Really," I muttered, running my hands over my stomach again. "So, where's Jay taking you tonight?"

"His place, Domino," she replied, naming the upscale Italian restaurant that Jay had built with his own two hands; or designed, rather, with the help of his younger brother, Leonardo, an architect, who was Clayton and Fionn's idol, as well as the head of their little young architect's group. "I mean, this is date number seven," Franny said, biting her lip as she put her diamond studs in her ears, an eighteenth birthday gift from Aunt Debbie. "You think I can fuck him tonight? It wouldn't seem too desperate, would it?"

I rolled my eyes. "You know as well as I do that I don't date. Except for that momentary lapse of judgement freshman year..." I sighed, knowing that the night Ezra was conceived was not a topic that Franny and I needed to get into. "Well, let's just say that I'm probably not the right person to ask..."

"If you say so," she muttered, leaning on the footboard of her bed. "But be honest with me... I mean, when was the last time you even got laid?"

"Please," I muttered, the baby moving to sit on my bladder again, so I quickly moved to get up from the bed to empty it. "I'm hardly thinking about that right now..."

"Really?" Franny asked, crossing her arms and turning her back as I walked into the small en suite her bedroom boasted. "I remember when I was pregnant with Ezra, I was fucking horny all the fucking time..."

"Well, whoop-dy-fucking-do for you, Franny Gallagher!" I said, pulling down my jeans and sitting on the toilet, clapping my hands like some kid at a parade. "Good job!"

She sighed. "You coming next week?"

I rolled my shoulders, making sure I was done before I contemplated standing up. "Coming? Am I to assume that you signed me up for something without permission?"

"Come on, Iana. Don't be like that."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll try to make an effort. So, what are you talking about?"

"The Patsy's Halloween party," Franny said, her tone slightly impatient.

I scoffed then, running my hands over my stomach. "I don't know..."

"Come on, Iana. Live a little."

"Please," I muttered.

"I'm serious!" Franny cried out then, and I knew she was contemplating stamping her foot in a moment of pure, unadulterated exasperation. "Things'll be different in a few months when Baby Milkovich gets here."

"Christ. I conceived my daughter in the employee locker room during a one-night-stand. I think that's enough living a little for one lifetime..."

"And you were conceived in a bathroom in a tequila bar in Mexico during a one-night-stand. For the love of, god..."

"Don't bring her into this," I replied.

"Boo-fucking-hoo! Come on, Iana," Franny begged. "I need you with me on this..."

"I don't know," I said quietly, running my hands over my stomach. "You know as well as I do that the only costume I could possibly fit into is a beached whale."

"That's not true and you know it."

I sighed. "Fine. We'll go as attractions for Sea World together," I told her.

Franny laughed. "Well, Jay'll be here in half an hour," she said, waiting for me to finish up before she turned around again. "You'll be okay with Ezra tonight?" she asked, watching as I washed my hands.

I nodded. "Yeah, of course."

"I'm sorry that my mom couldn't watch him. I know you were hoping to go back to Uncle Ian and your pops's place tonight."

I shook my head, turning off the water and flinging my hands over the sink before I made a grab for the towel. "It's fine," I replied, flashing her a smile. "This'll be good for me. Give me some practice when I pop the little angel out," I joked.

"Please, that thing is half-Gallagher," Franny said as I stepped back into the bedroom. "It's a little devil and you know it."

I rolled my eyes, perching on the edge of the bed. "Please. I helped raise Clayton and Fionn and I think I did pretty well."

"Girls are harder," Franny reported. "Remember when my mom literally jumped for joy when we found out I was having a boy?"

I smirked. "Of course. She cut the damn cake."

Franny laughed, checking her phone. "Oh! Jay's going to be here soon. He texted," she said, and quickly wrote him a message back before grabbing her sleek black cocktail purse. "Come on. I need to show you where everything is for Ezra."

"All right, all right," I replied, moving to follow Franny out of the room, knowing that my pregnancy brain was slowly but surely getting the better of me and, when it came right down to it, I needed all the help I could get.

. . .

"And nobody knows about this?"

I was still sitting across from Cara, but had, by this point, wrapped the couch blanket around me in a moment of uncertainty. "No one knows," I said, my voice hollow. "If my pops had found out about it, let's just say he'd be locked up twenty-five to life for murder. You've searched his records, Cara. You know what he's capable of."

"I also managed to find out some information on your brother."

"Which one?" I asked. "I've got four."

"Your biological father's son, Yevgeny," she replied.

I shook my head at her. "I don't want to know, honestly," I replied, my shoulders slacking then as I considered it for a moment. "I just want to focus on my case. Anything that I can tell you that'll help, I will."

Cara nodded. "Of course... I guess my next question is, where is this child now? Or did you end up terminating the pregnancy?"

I sighed. "The child doesn't exist."

"Really?"

"Really. My body aborted the fetus for me. I was only about six to eight weeks in. I begged my family doctor, Dr. Lennox, to refer me to some other doctor. I gave her some dumbass reason, but she fucking did it..."

"What was the doctor's name?"

"Dr. Mitchell Travers," I replied. "He operates out of Wicker Park. I needed to get out of the area, if you know what I mean. Just... I just didn't want to deal with the fact that I could potentially run into people I knew..."

"And nobody knows about this?"

I shook my head again. "I haven't told anyone, and I certainly didn't mention it to Principal Monroe; didn't want to face him again..."

"And rightly so," Cara replied. "But how did you even get there? It's almost forty minutes from here by car..."

"The bus," I replied. "It was a good hour each way. I made up that I was working at the library, which was a reasonable excuse. But I got all my homework done for that week the week before, just in case something happened..."

"And would Dr. Travers still have your records?"

I shrugged. "Probably. He had to take the placenta out. It wasn't coming out, after I lost the baby, and I felt like I was going to die..."

"Jesus," Cara replied, writing everything down. "Well, I'll get in touch with him. Which hospital does he work at?"

"Saint Elizabeth," I said softly.

Cara quickly concluded her notes for that day before she closed up her folder and lowered her eyes back down to my ankle bracelet. "How're you holding up?"

I raised my eyes then, slightly surprised when hers met mine so quickly. "Given all that I've been through in my life, Cara, in this moment, I can't complain."

. . .

Jared "Jay" Langdon, former executive chef of and now merely the owner of Domino Ristorante, was thirty-years-old; he was six-feet-three, had finely styled, closely cropped, black hair, and a mustache and beard to match. He always matched his socks and ties to his suits, and tonight, he was sporting a dark silver number, along with patent leather black dress shoes. Always polite and the charmer, he brought a dozen white Queen of the Nights, Franny's favorite flower, along with a box of chocolates for Ezra and the latest pregnancy pillow for me.

My eyes popped when he handed it over. "Wow. Thanks," I said, knowing that I would be getting a lot of use out of it. "You shouldn't have..."

Jay smiled. "That's all right, Iana," he said, his rich Italian accent doing wonders for Franny, whose knees shook whenever he spoke.

"I just have to show Iana a couple of things in the kitchen," Franny said, doing her best to remain in check as she fingers her flowers gently. "Ezra, be polite while Mommy and Aunt Iana are in there, okay? Play host."

"Yes, Mommy," Ezra said, saluting her before he took Jay by the hand, who looked quite amused by the display. "Mommy says you're Italian," he said, pulling him beside him on the couch. "Is that true?"

Jay laughed. "I am, yeah. I was born in Sicily, in Palermo."

"But Aunt Iana says your last name is English."

Jay smirked, catching my eye from where I stood beside Franny in the kitchen, watching her fill a vase with water for the flowers. "She's right," he replied. "My father was a British businessman, and he met my mother when his company sent him to Palermo. He opened a division there and, thankfully, Alessandro, took over the business. Then, I went to culinary school, after learning everything my mother taught me, and my little brother, Leonardo, got to be an architect."

"Isn't he great with him?" Franny whispered, setting the flowers on the counter.

I nodded. "The best. Maybe you and I should go out, and leave Jay here with Ezra..."

Franny rolled her eyes. "Nice try," she said, playfully shoving my shoulder before walking over to the fridge. "Because it's a weekend, Ezra can have his favorite."

"Chicken nuggets and frozen fries," I said, clapping my hands. "That actually sounds amazing right now... Do you mind if I—?"

"Fine," she said, knowing full well that I would just eat them whether she liked it or not. "He also has his popsicles, and you have your special ice cream."

"Thanks," I replied. "But I think we'll be fine."

"Okay," Franny said, pulling me into her arms for a hug before she made a grab for her black wrap, which she'd put down on the back of a kitchen chair. She breezed out into the living room, where Ezra was still questioning Jay, and bent over him. "Mommy and her friend Jay are going out for a while," she explained patiently, kissing his forehead. "Aunt Iana is going to stay here and play with you. You're going to eat dinner, have a bath, read some stories... Mommy will see you first thing in the morning."

"Okay, Mommy," Ezra replied, turning around to give Franny a hug. Once he pulled back, he got to his feet and took my hand, and we watched as Jay walked with Franny to the front door. "Bye, Mommy. Nice meeting you, Jay."

"Sweetie, I told you to call him Mr. Langdon," Franny said quickly.

"No, that's fine," Jay said quickly, squeezing Franny's hand before he shot Ezra a smile. "Ezra and I are old pals. He can call me Jay."

"We'll be fine," I told Franny, running my free hand through Ezra's hair.

"Goodnight, Mommy! Goodnight, Jay!" Ezra called.

"Goodnight, baby!" Franny said before her eyes drifted to mine. "Night, Iana."

"Night, Franny," I replied.

. . .

"Let's go more in-depth into your childhood today," said Dr. Samantha Norton, my court-appointed psychiatrist. She was of Korean and French descent, but had been born in Portland, Oregon, so she sounded as American as I did. She had pictures on her modern desk of her American husband, Andrew, along with their triplet sons, Lawrence, Paul, and Henry, along with their youngest child, a daughter, Rosemary. "Can you tell me about your first memory today, Iana?"

I swallowed then, shutting my eyes for a moment as I attempted to allow my mind to wander back into time, before all the heartbreak and devastation, not to mention the bad decisions I'd made, according to law enforcement. "I was three," I said quietly. "I was walking down the street with my mother..."

"Did you talk to each other? Or did you just walk?"

"We talked, too."

"What did you two discuss?"

"We talked about our upcoming move," I said carefully. "She was going to move in with her boyfriend; they weren't even engaged yet. She was pregnant."

"With his children?"

"My twin brothers, Clayton and Fionn," I said. "She told me that we had different fathers, my brothers and I, but that didn't mean that she would love me any less."

"Is that all you talked about?"

I shook my head. "No. She said that, someday, I would want to leave. Like, move out of the house and have my own life."

"How did you feel when she said that?"

My eyes shot open. "Afraid."

"Afraid?" Dr. Norton asked, shocked at my reaction, quickly writing down some more notes for my lawyer, as well as the courts. "Can you tell me why you felt that way?"

"Because, it felt like a rejection," I told her, my voice shaking, as I fully became aware of what I was saying, as well as the notion that I was gripping to the sides of my chair. "I was only three-years-old, and I felt like she was telling me to get out right then..."

"Did she inform you otherwise?"

"Of course."

"And what did you tell her, after the assurance?"

"The truth, at the time," I said quietly.

"And what was that truth?"

"That, in those moments, I didn't ever want to leave her," I whispered. "All I wanted was my mother, because I thought she was my ultimate protector, a woman who could do no wrong. But, I was so fucking wrong..."

"There's some resentment within your relationship, I take it."

I nodded, my head jerking up and down as it frequently did when I was faced with a hard truth that I even had to admit to myself. "I had a rough childhood. I was doing adult tasks from the time I was five."

"And why did you have to do those tasks, Iana?"

"Because, if I didn't, social services would've taken us away and split us up," I said simply. "I knew how to cook, wash myself and the boys, do laundry... You name it. I was doing all that and more for them, all because my mother couldn't be bothered."

"And when you say, 'couldn't be bothered', what do you really mean, Iana?"

"I mean, she was shacking up with her new boyfriend and I was exiled across the street with my brother's to my uncle's house."

"Didn't your uncle take care of you?"

"He's an EMT," I replied. "Lot of work hours that he can't change. I had to become the boys' mother, because somebody else would've, and I couldn't do that to them."

"Do what to them, Iana?"

"Make them feel the way I did."

"And how did you feel?"

"Rejected," I said quietly. "Tossed out like yesterday's garbage. All I could think of was keeping us together, and keeping them alive. I'm just glad that nobody ratted us out. My mother would've blamed me for it, I know she would've..."

"Why do you think that, Iana?"

"It's easier to blame me..."

"And why is that?"

"Because I was unplanned," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Unplanned. She said she wanted me, but whenever she looks at me, it's like she's staring at a fucking swatch of wall behind me or something, like I'm not even there..."

"Have you told her how you feel?"

I shook my head. "Wouldn't do any good."

"Why do you think so?"

"Because her fucking husband would back her up," I replied without hesitation. "He may have adopted me, but my pops is my dad. Not him. Never him."

"Is there tension there?"

"Please. Of course there is! He's convinced that his wife can do no wrong. In his eyes, yeah, but in other people's, fucking watch out. He'll defend her to the end."

"It sounds like you want someone to defend you to the end, Iana."

I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Nobody in your life does that for you?"

"My pops does. And Uncle Ian. They love and support me."

"And you don't think your mother does?"

I sighed. "I think she wants to, but she's unable to understand me fully, which develops into frustration and impatience. And, unfortunately, fights..." I trailed off for a moment then, and stared at a section of carpet that was mussed up from the wheels of Dr. Norton's desk chair. "I mean, all families fight, though, don't they?" I asked, my voice slightly hollow then as I forced myself to question her. "I guess I'm used to the hard shit by now... What's another couple of years?" I whispered.

. . .

Once I gave Ezra his dinner and his bath, I gave him some time to clean up his room, telling him it would be a nice surprise for Franny the following morning. I made a plan to check on him in a few minutes, and he knew to call me if he had any trouble. I sat down on the couch in the living room, pulling up one ankle at a time and rubbing it. I sighed; my ankles were swollen and my back was constantly sore, and I didn't readily have anyone to complain to about it. I knew that if I'd accepted Andy's marriage proposal, that it would've been the sole highlight of the union, blaming him for this happening to me.

I managed to wedge my phone out of my pocket, and apart from Pops and Uncle Ian just checking in, to Mom's constant begging for me to return home, as well as Uncle Lip and Mandy's invitation to come over the following day, I had a text from Penny. Perplexed, I looked it over, surprised that she wanted me to call her. Shrugging it off, and making a mental note to tell her that I couldn't talk long, I pressed her number and listened to the rings, before she finally managed to pick up.

"Iana!" she cried out.

"Hey, Penny," I replied, pushing myself further into the couch cushions. "You texted that you wanted me to call. This is me calling."

"Right, right—sorry, million things to do before the new spring line comes out in April," she told me, deliberately apologetic. "They delivered some fabric samples today, and things are not boding well for these jackets..."

"Yeah?" I asked, wondering if this is why she called—to vent about problems about her future product line. "What's the matter?"

"Oh, they were supposed to come in Creamy Coral," she explained, and I made a mental note that it seemed like a color, "but instead they came in Sassy Salmon. So many people depend upon these to go with their complexion! Salmon doesn't look good on anyone," she told me, her voice firm.

"I don't think I even own anything salmon," I replied.

Penny giggled. "Good," she said. "But, I'm so sorry—got distracted. I actually have another purpose for my phone call."

"Do you?" I asked. "Hate to be 'this person', but I'm watching my cousin's son, and I really shouldn't leave him alone much longer. He's cleaning his room..."

"Ezra?" Penny asked, a lightness to her tone. "I remember you showing me his picture. He's a beautiful boy. Let me know if your cousin wants some modeling gigs for him. We have the new summer line on the confidential judges' runway starting in February. He'd be perfect."

"I'll let her know," I told her. "So, what's going on?"

"I'm having a Halloween get-together next week at my suite," she said, and I immediately opened my mouth to protest. "And before you say anything, no. Liam is on a business trip to New York and he won't be back until the day after."

"I see," I replied.

"Some gala," Penny explained, answering my silent question.

"Really?" I asked, trying not to sound too interested.

"Of course, he's got to have Bella Martinez, Senator Martinez's daughter, on his arm. What with him running for office and everything, it's seen as good press to have his flesh and blood seen at a gala with a billionaire."

"Billionaire?"

"Made his first billion this summer," Penny said, shrugging it off like it didn't matter.

"You don't sound too impressed."

"Please. I became a trillionaire six months into this fashion gig," she replied. She sighed then, and I heard her shuffling papers in the background. "Well, listen, you don't need to RSVP right this minute," she assured me. "Just keep it in mind and, if you're free, let me know."

I nodded. "Will do."

"All right," she went on brightly. "Give Ezra a big hello for me. See you soon, yeah?"

"Yeah. Soon," I told her, hanging up, knowing that I would have to plan a coffee date or something with Penny, because she'd planned the last four. Shaking my head at how negligent I'd become since getting pregnant, I pushed myself to my feet than and managed to waddle down the hallway towards Ezra's bedroom. "I don't hear a lot of cleaning going on in there," I joked, making sure to keep the humor in my voice. "That would really be too bad, because Mommy likes surprises, and you wanted that orange popsicle," I went on, pushing the door open fully then, and gasping at what I saw. "Ezra?" I said, immediately advancing into the room, seeing Ezra splayed out on the carpet on his bedroom floor. "Ezra, this isn't funny," I told him, my voice firm as I turned him to the side then, and immediately drew back when I saw that his eyes were red and tearing up severely, along with a good amount of vomit next to where his mouth had been. "Ezra!" I cried out then, and got a mere wheeze in response. My heart pounding in my ears, I made a grab for the box that lay next to him, which had contained the chocolates that Jay had given him just two hours before. I looked down at his hands for a moment, seeing that they were covered in chocolate. Scanning the ingredients, I saw that the chocolate contained nuts, which was the cause of Ezra's reaction, due to his peanut allergy. "Shit," I whispered then, my voice shaking as I dropped the box and grabbed my phone back out of my pocket.

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

"It's my nephew," I replied, not wanting to get into formalities here. "I was watching him, and I had to take a phone call..."

"What seems to be the matter with him, miss?"

"He ate some chocolate a friend of the family gave him," I went on, my voice shaking. "He's deathly allergic to nuts..."

"Have symptoms of an allergic reaction set in?"

"Yeah," I said, trying to keep my voice in check. "He's got red, watery eyes. Plus it looks like he vomited a little. And when I tried to talk to him, he wheezed..."

"All right, miss, everything's okay," she said gently. "Do you have an epipen?"

"No," I replied. "We've never had to deal with this. He had one attack as a baby and since then, his mom has been hypervigilant about this sort of thing... Dammit, I shouldn't have taken that phone call," I wailed, covering my face with my hands as tears formed in my eyes.

"Miss, it's all right," the woman said. "What's your name?"

"Iana," I replied. "Iana Milkovich."

"And what's your nephew's name?"

"Ezra Gallagher," I said softly.

"And how old are you and Ezra?"

"I'm sixteen," I went on. "Ezra's three."

"We've got your location via your cell phone," she went on, obviously wanting to keep me as calm as possible here. "You stay with him, as the paramedics are en route. They should be there in a couple of minutes."

"Please hurry," I whispered, my voice shaking all over again as I dragged my hand down my face, the tears coming along for the ride. "Please hurry..."

. . .

"Dr. Norton says you're making progress."

I looked up at Cara then, but her eyes were firmly fixed on her computer screen, as she did her best to type up Dr. Norton's notes from our last session into my electronic file. "She said that, did she?" I asked.

Cara nodded. "Extreme progress," she went on, flashing me a quick smile before she began typing again.

I nodded back, the movement still stiff. "But...?"

Cara sighed, finishing a paragraph or something before she pushed herself away from her computer to look over at me. "Look, there's no easy way to say this," she said, placing her chin into the palms on their hands, "so I'll just be direct about it."

"Okay?" I said, unknowing what she was going to say.

"Dr. Norton feels that you're holding back with him."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

Cara bit her lip. "She feels as if you don't trust her completely. She wanted me to assure you that, just because she works for the court system, doesn't mean that she's not there to help you as well. And she wants to help you, Iana."

I scoffed, crossing my arms and looking away from her. "Whatever."

"Look, I know you went through some trauma, and I'm very sorry to hear that," Cara informed me carefully.

I nodded. "Thanks."

"But, I also need you to understand that Dr. Norton and I need certain pieces of information in order to present the best case possible."

I lowered my eyes. "Yeah, I get that..."

"So, no holding back anymore," Cara went on, and my eyes automatically snapped to hers at the directness of her tone. "I need you to tell me anything and everything that you think would have made this attack against Colin happen."

I bit my lip. "Well, both he and his father assaulted me..."

"Yes, we've established the familial pattern, and that's helpful," she said. "And we've discussed how devoted you are to Franny, and that it was technically defense of a third person twice over, due to the fact that you saved her and her unborn child from certain harm."

I swallowed then. "I just..."

"What?"

I sighed then, my shoulders trembling slightly as hot tears escaped my eyes. "What would it take for this to all just go away?" I whispered.

"Dr. Norton confirming that you're mentally ill somehow," Cara replied simply. "Once the judge hears her report, and if she confirms the mental illness, we're far more likely to get the verdict we all want here."

I shook my head then, trying to square my thoughts away as I turned and looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows. "And, if it doesn't come back in our favor?" I asked.

"We shouldn't even think about..."

I locked my eyes with Cara. "I need you to be straight with me," I told her, my voice firm. "How long could I get, if this all goes south?"

Cara sighed. "If the charges of attempted murder attached to the assault stick, we're looking at a potential sentence of life in prison," she replied.

A shuddered breath escaped my lips then. "Wouldn't be so different than what I had to face as a child," I told her, my voice quiet. "And there's sometimes the rule of time off for good behavior. I come from a criminal family; not like I couldn't handle myself..."

"You could get killed, Iana," Cara said quietly.

I laughed bitterly then, and shook my head. "I've died a thousand times over already," I told her, deliberately not looking at her. "Once, for every time Tommy touched me. Another for Principal Monroe's assault. And a third time, when I found out his fucking child was growing inside me as a direct result of said assault... I'm basically a walking corpse. Sure, I've got a family and a few good memories, scattered here and there, but it's different, now that I've had my childhood stripped away from me at least three times over..."

Cara mulled that over for a moment. "I think I have a solution for you."

"Yeah?" I asked. "Like what?"

"Confrontation," she said simply, and my eyes snapped to hers.

"What are our options?"

"You're curious?"

"If it'll help me, yeah," I said quietly.

. . .

I mechanically walked the paramedics through what happened as they carried Ezra's body through the house and placed him onto the stretcher. I grabbed jackets for the two of us and had stepped into a pair of sneakers before heading out. I was permitted to sit in the ambulance with the EMT's, feeling my phone in my hands. I hadn't had the guts to contact Franny yet, unknowing what her reaction would be.

We burst through the hospital doors, and even though I attempted to follow Ezra, the doctors insisted on checking me over, due to my stress levels, mid-term pregnancy, and young age. I was quickly cleared, but forced to stay in a bed until my heart rate got under control. I could still feel it pounding in my ears, but, thankfully, I managed to get my phone back. I felt my hands shaking then as I picked it up, and dialed Franny's number.

"What?" came her voice, a soft hiss, into the phone. "You're so lucky I had to go to the ladies' room, Iana. I don't want Jay to think I'm rude..."

"Ezra and I are in the hospital," I replied, knowing that I had to rip off the Band-Aid as quickly as humanly possible.

"What?" Franny demanded then after a moment of silence. "What's wrong with you?"

"Anxiety attack, I guess, induced by stress."

"What did you do with Ezra tonight?!" she cried out.

"Nothing out of the ordinary!" I shot back. "I told him to clean his fucking room and then he ate the whole goddamned box of chocolates your boyfriend gave him!"

"Chocolates?" Franny whispered. "So, he's got a stomach ache? He puke? Why the hell would you bring him to the hospital?!"

"Because the chocolates had fucking nuts in them!" I growled into the phone. "Ezra had an allergic reaction, so I called 9-1-1, and now we're here."

"Fuck," Franny whispered, and I could just see her, standing there in the ladies' room, leaning up against the sink counter, and dragging a hand over her face. "Okay. I'll go tell Jay right now and we'll head on over."

"Okay," I said, my voice quiet.

"Iana, it's not your fault," she said quietly.

I shook my head then, despite knowing that she couldn't see me. "Wish I could believe that," I replied, before I lowered the phone and hung it up.