Chapter 3

When I opened the door, Willa was standing on the porch with Owen's navy coat in her arms.

She wore a loose beige sweater and no makeup. Her face looked pale and exhausted.

A pharmacy bag hung from her left hand, while her right rested naturally over her still-flat stomach.

"Mara." She looked at me as if she hadn't expected me to answer the door. "I'm glad you're both home. I thought you'd already left for dinner."

"Clearly, we haven't."

I took the coat from her without inviting her inside.

The bag bore the logo of a twenty-four-hour pharmacy.

The receipt was stapled to the top. It was time-stamped 11:47 last night, and Owen's name appeared on the purchaser's signature line.

"Where were you last night?" I asked him over my shoulder.

Owen came to the door, his expression grim.

"Willa hurt her wrist putting the crib together. I went over after work to help. My stomach started bothering me, so I picked up some medicine while I was there."

"You said you didn't come home until after midnight because your meeting ran late."

"I didn't want to wake you up in the middle of the night and explain the whole thing."

Willa lowered her head, her fingers pinching the hem of her sweater.

"This is all my fault. Owen didn't want to hide it from you. I begged him to wait."

"The first two treatments failed. I was afraid that if we told you too soon, I'd only end up with nothing again."

Her eyes quickly turned red.

Owen stepped forward, positioning himself squarely between us.

"You said your lower abdomen was hurting," he said. "How do you feel now?"

"It comes and goes. I'm probably fine." Willa looked up at him. "Evelyn has been very quiet today. Maybe I'm just too nervous."

My grip tightened around the coat.

"What did you call her?"

Willa turned to me, confusion flickering across her face. "Evelyn. The doctor said it's most likely a girl."

I stared down at the creases in the pharmacy bag, unwilling to let her see my expression.

During my first pregnancy, Owen and I had lain in bed and filled an entire page with baby names.

Evelyn was my mother's middle name.

That pregnancy had lasted only nine weeks, but I had never forgotten the name.

Willa couldn't possibly have known unless Owen had told her.

"Owen said it was the name he'd always wanted for his daughter." She gently stroked her stomach. "It's a lovely name, isn't it?"

I raised my eyes to my husband.

His lips moved. "It's only a name."

"That name belonged to our unborn child."

The fragile look on Willa's face faltered for a fraction of a second, so quickly I almost missed it.

Then she covered her mouth with one hand.

"Oh my God, I had no idea." Her voice trembled. "Owen never told me. If it makes you uncomfortable, we can discuss another name."

"We?" I asked.

Owen frowned. "Mara, she just said she didn't know."

"But you did."

He lowered his voice. "Don't argue about this in the doorway. She isn't feeling well."

Willa reached out and touched his arm.

"Owen, don't blame her. After everything she's been through, hearing that name must be very painful."

She sounded so gentle and considerate that I felt like an outsider intruding on their conversation.

I handed the coat to Owen, and a folded sheet of paper slipped from inside the collar.

It was a registration form for a parenting class.

Two names were listed side by side under "Attendees":

Mother: Willa Hart.

Father: Owen Ellison.