Karen was always the most lively woman in camp, always drinking and gambling and cheering everyone up, but for the past few weeks something had shifted in her attitude.

She seemed to smile less and her brow was furrowed with worry, though she always said she was fine when anyone asked.

One evening, as the camp died down and everyone went to bed, she walked over to you whilst you stood on guard duty at the edge of camp, her voice low and a hand resting on her stomach.

“Hey, can I talk to you?”

Her voice was soft and almost meek as she bit on her lower lip.