Ariana’s POV
The phone vibrated again.
Same name. Same call. For the third time that morning.
Mom.
I stared at it, frozen, the dull buzz rattling against the nightstand like it was trying to claw into my chest.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.
Instead, I let it ring out again and turned my face into the pillow, squeezing my eyes shut as if that would shut out the world too.
I knew why she was calling.
She wasn’t checking in. She wasn’t suddenly concerned. She was calling because she wanted something. Probably to circle back to the same damn conversation she cornered me into last time—
"You’re still young, Ariana. This isn’t the right time for a baby.”
“Think about your future.”
“Do the responsible thing.”
My throat tightened.
Responsible?
I hadn’t felt in control of anything for
