At a young age, one stands at a crossroad: to work, or to continue studying. A path that seems simple at first glance, yet it hides a great, silent abyss—one wrong step, and life may never be the same again.

When your period didn’t come, unease began to grow—slowly, subtly—like mist creeping in during the early hours of dawn. Anxieties hung thick in the air, haunting your every thought. "Maybe it’s just late," you told yourself, clinging to hope. But how could that be? It has now been three months.

There is no shame in speaking your truth. And yet, the fact that you’re still in students. darkens everything—it makes the truth feel heavier, like a confession before a tribunal.

One day, with trembling hands and a heart full of dread, you secretly bought a pregnancy test. You rushed into the bathroom, locked the door, and stood on the cold tiles—cold, like your insides at that moment.

And then it happened—the world stopped turning. The first line appeared. Then the second. Two lines, clear and undeniable. A truth that offered no mercy, no room for doubt.

You wanted to cry, but the tears never came. Him... he had been distant lately. Quiet. Withdrawn. And that silence only deepened your fear. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. With shaky fingers, you slipped the test into a drawer. You stood before the mirror, staring at your own reflection—pale, disoriented, hollow. You let out a long breath, trying to breathe out the weight of it all.

Still, the question lingered: Do I tell him? Now? Or later?

But your thoughts were abruptly cut off by the voice you knew so well—the one that always wrapped itself around your heart like a warm blanket, though now it struck like thunder behind the bathroom door.

"Darlin', what were you doing in there for half an hour? Are you okay?"

That voice… it was him.