“But what does it all mean?” I scream again and start to pace the room. It’s all just a string of words for me. It doesn’t give a clear answer to anything. Well, one thing, it explains her obsession with fruit. When the fruit becomes ripe…
“f**k!” I say out loud. Sam and Rory, who have been looking at the floor so I can panic in peace, turn to me. “f**k!” I repeat to them.
“When the fruit becomes ripe!” I say, hoping they will see the same as me, but they only shrug. “When is the fruit ripe? Is it the second I’m pregnant, when the pup is born, or when the child is all grown up?”
Both lose the color of their faces. “f**k!” They repeat after me, and I continue pacing.
After a minute, Sam speaks up. “We will figure this out. Don’t worry about it. We will ensure you and our future baby are
