Dirty Thief

We leave the orphanage surrounded by optimism. I have to finish searching the remaining names, but perhaps we can find more families. Things are difficult, but the little rays of hope keep us going.

“We should stop at the drugstore and get a pregnancy test,” Zee says, shifting in her seat as best as she can with a sleeping Belle clutching her hand.

I press my teeth together in a smile. “I’m scared,” I say, but my heart is beating so fast. “I really want to…”

“Hajib!” Zee leans forward, and the stocky driver holds up a hand.

“I’m headed that way now.”

We both start to laugh, but I pull up short. “I can’t be the one to buy it. It’ll be front-page news tomorrow, and Rowan will kill me. We haven’t said anything to the queen.”

My sister’s brow lines. “Hajib—”

“I’ll pull around the block, and the Duchess can get out.”

Our eyes meet, and we both lean forward, snorting a laugh. “He really doesn’t need us for anything,” I say, feeling my cheeks heat.

“Not true, your majesty,” Hajib again calls back. “I need you for a job.”

I do a little shrug, and we’re stopped. Zee pries her hand out of Belle’s, and the little girl whines and squirms with her eyes closed. I scoot closer to the car seat and place my arm around the top. I weave my fingers into hers, and it’s the first time she’s held onto me since they arrived. Every time I try to pick her up, she whines or squirms.

“You really need to visit more so she at least knows who I am,” I hiss as my sister jumps out of the car.

Waiting, I slide my thumb back and forth over the baby’s hand and watch the cars pass along the road. My skin feels prickly with nerves, and my heart is beating faster. I can’t decide if I should do it as soon as I get home or wait for Rowan. Of course, Zelda isn’t about to let me wait that long. I’m contemplating whether it matters if we have a boy or a girl first when the door flies open and my sister dives in beside me.

“Drive, Hajib!” she whisper-shouts.

“I see them,” he calls, pulling the car away from the curb as a little crew of paparazzi storms up.

Strobe flashes pop through the tinted windows, but Zee has the box in a brown bag under her thigh. “Your secret is safe with me,” she pants. “Lord knows I don’t want the old crone coming back to the palace as long as we’re visiting.”

“You’re pushing your lu

ck,” I quip. “If she finds out her favorite son is visiting, she’ll be on the next train back. She’ll likely be pissed we didn’t tell her.”

“Don’t curse me.”

Laughter bursts through my nose at her rolling eyes. The queen is pretty rough on Zee, I confess. “She’s bitter because you took Cal so far away.”

“She can deal with it.”

* * *

Twenty minutes later, I’m on the toilet. Zee is pacing back and forth, reading the box. “You have to pee on this end, and then stick it in the plastic cap. Then we have to wait five minutes.”

She thrusts the white stick at me, and my bottom lip goes under my teeth. “I’m scared, Zee.”

“Stop it!” she hisses. “You sound like you’re fourteen again.”

“What do I do if it’s positive?”

“You have a baby.”

“What do I do if it’s negative?”

“Keep having sex.”

“Have I ever told you how much I admire your brilliance?” I snark.