Chapter 1

Emily never imagined that Frank would do that.

He made her soup, rubbed her shoulders every day, and whispered, "Emily, the luckiest thing that ever happened to me was marrying you," would sneak into the bathroom after she fell asleep and poke holes in their condoms one by one with a needle.

At two o'clock one morning, Emily woke up needing to use the bathroom.

She rolled over and realized Frank wasn't beside her.

The bathroom door was slightly ajar, a thin strip of light spilling into the dark hallway. Barefoot, she walked toward it.

Just as she reached for the door, she heard a faint sound from inside. A needle piercing rubber.

It was soft, precise, and rhythmic. It was like something he had done many times before.

Emily peeked through the crack in the door.

Frank was crouched beside the toilet. In one hand, he held a condom. In the other, a sewing needle.

Calmly and carefully, he pierced the same spot over and over, then held it up to the light to make sure the holes were nearly invisible before placing it back in the box.

There were five left in the box.

He picked up the next one and continued.

Emily gripped the doorframe so hard her nails dug into the paint. She didn't push the door open.

After Frank finished poking holes in the last condom, he snapped the box shut and slid it back into the second drawer under the sink.

Then he took out his phone and, speaking barely above a whisper, called someone. "Sophia, the doctor said her ovulation is in the middle of the month. She should get pregnant soon."

Emily couldn't make out what the person on the other end was saying.

Frank's voice softened. "Don't worry. The chances the baby's cord blood will be a match are pretty high.

"Even if that's not enough, we can use the baby's bone marrow once the baby's here. I won't let anything happen to you."

He paused, then added, "She won't find out. She has no idea."

She had no idea. Emily leaned against the wall, her stomach churning.

She slipped back into the bedroom, pulled the covers over her head, and lay there in silence.

Three minutes later, Frank quietly pushed the door open, slipped into bed beside her, and wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Emily, are you cold?" he asked, his voice still carrying that same gentle tone from the phone call.

Emily kept her eyes closed, not saying a word.

The next morning, when Emily came out of the bedroom, breakfast was already laid out in the kitchen. There was oatmeal, a fried egg, and a plate of her favorite pickles.

Frank was wearing an apron, pouring her a glass of milk. "You're up? Did you sleep well last night?" he asked.

"Yeah," Emily replied, sitting down at the table and taking a spoonful of oatmeal.

Frank sat down across from her, watching the way Emily ate her oatmeal.

Suddenly, he reached over and took her hand. "Emily, we've been married for five years. Have you ever thought about having a baby?"

Emily looked up at him. His eyes were sincere and full of affection, and he wore that smile she used to be crazy about.

If she hadn't witnessed what happened last night, she might have felt her heart skip a beat.

"Didn't you always say you weren't in a hurry?" Emily asked.

"I wasn't in a hurry before, but now it just feels too quiet with only the two of us," Frank said, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. "Babe, I want a little girl who looks just like you."

Emily stared at his face. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

Suddenly, she smiled. "Sure."

Frank's eyes lit up.

Emily lowered her head and kept spooning up her oatmeal. Under the table, her left hand was gripping the seam of her pajama pants so hard her knuckles turned white.

After breakfast, Frank headed off to work.

Once Emily finished cleaning up, she closed the kitchen door, pulled out her phone, and scrolled through her contacts until she found a number she hadn't called in ages.

She paused for a moment, then made the call.

The phone rang three times before someone picked up. "Emily? Why are you calling me all of a sudden?"

Emily said flatly, like she was just talking about the weather, "Linda, I need a favor. Can you check someone out for me?

"Sophia Quinn, Frank's old college classmate. I want to know about her recent doctor visits and any hospital stays."

"Why do you want to look into her?" Linda asked.

Emily was silent for a couple of seconds. "Just check for me. The sooner, the better," she said.

She hung up, slipped her phone into her pocket, and walked into the bathroom. She opened the second drawer and took out the box of condoms.

Then she held it up to the light, inspecting it closely.

Every single one had a tiny, almost invisible pinhole, all in the exact same spot.

Emily put the box back, closed the drawer, and walked out of the bathroom.

She sat in the living room for a long time, so long that the sunlight outside shifted from the east all the way to the west.

Three days later, Frank brought a woman home.

Emily was in the kitchen chopping vegetables when she heard the front door open.

Then Frank called out, "Emily, come out for a second. I want you to meet someone."

She wiped her hands and walked out of the kitchen.

There was a woman standing in the entryway. She had long hair, was very thin, and her complexion was sickly pale.

She wore a beige cardigan, and on her wrist was a hospital wristband she hadn't taken off.

Frank stood next to her, steadying her with one hand while holding a suitcase in the other.