She feels like the Virgin Mary except it’s now way less socially acceptable and she’s entirely sure even Mary was a liar who got knocked up and refused to come clean for fear of being judged.

  Mags would certainly be judged if what the gynecologist had just said was actually true. But there’s no way that could be possible.

  “You can be honest, Margaret, this is a safe space,” Dr. Corning says in what she assumes is a calming, accepting tone, but paired with the use of Mags’s full name, just sounds condescending. “If you can’t be honest with your doctor, who can you be?”

  “I am being honest with you! That’s impossible! You’ve got to run the test again.”

  “I’m afraid we’ve already run it three times— at your request, which may not be covered by insurance as is because the second two weren’t technically necessary.”

  “Then you mixed up the results! Clearly there’s another woman in here who’s devastated right now and it’s your fault. Or your assistant’s fault. Someone’s. But not mine!”

  “Its not uncommon for patients to experience denial when given such monumental news.”

  Mags shrugged away, pulling toward the opposite end of the examination chair. “No, don’t do that. Don’t therapize me! I’m not in denial. I literally can’t be pregnant. I’m a virgin!” She yelled, louder than she meant. She felt her cheeks flush warm as she, a twenty-four year old woman, sat there with the door cracked open as she admitted to the entire office she had never slept with anyone.

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  The doctor started to speak, then shook her head. She stepped out and didn’t return for what felt like a long time. Mags was about ready to throw her pants back on and get the hell out of dodge but the doctor finally returned with a lab technician in scrubs in tow.

  “I verified your results again,” the tech sighed. “I can ascertain they are definitely yours. You’re pregnant, Miss Vaughn. I’m sorry to have to tell you that. But you’ll learn to love him or her in time…”

  “No, I won’t. If you think I’m keeping this random tumor that appeared in my uterus, you’re out of your mind.”

  Both of them gaped at her. Dr. Corning said, “But Margaret, this baby is a miracle. Born unexpectedly of your own body!”

  “Yeah, I’ll give you a miracle. It’s a literal miracle it happened in the first place. There’s only one way a baby could’ve gotten there…” She paused, frozen as another alternative came to mind, this one a thousand times worse. “Shit. If it happened some other way that I can’t even remember…oh my god.”

  “We can take a rape kit,” Dr. Corning was all support and kindness again. “But you may be too far along. When was the last time you—?”

  “I didn’t!” She screamed, then apologized quickly. “Jesus, I— I don’t know! But if this thing happened without my knowledge, then I really do want to get rid of it. Yesterday!”

  “It could be so much more meaningful if you carry to term. Bring happiness and light out of a terrifying experience.”

  “Like hell!” Mags’s face contorted in disgust at the mere idea. “Get this fucking thing out of me or I’ll sue every last person in this hospital.”

  The doctors exchanged a look and Corning stepped out. The tech closed the distance between him and Mags, reached out a hand, but quickly dropped it as Mags yanked hers away.

  “Miss Vaughn, on behalf of my firm, I am willing to offer you a substantial sum of money to carry this baby to term.”

  And that was the start of some really weird shit Mags would never forget, no matter how much vodka she chugged as soon as she was able to.