During the funeral, a crow landed on the girl’s coffin. A second later, everyone present was STRUCK SPEECHLESS…

Her thoughts were far from work. “Pregnant… God, no, not this…” She pictured Matthew’s face, his confident moves, his commanding voice. “If it’s true, what do I do? Tell him? Stay quiet?” The workday dragged endlessly.

Documents and reports blurred together. Emily tried to focus, but her mind wandered. Her pen trembled, numbers jumbled in her head.

She opened a spreadsheet, staring at a row, but her brain refused to process it. The day crawled by. When evening came, she slipped on her coat and left the office quietly.

Colleagues chatted by the exit, but she passed without looking up. Her bag felt heavy. The wind blew hair into her face, and she tucked it behind her ear.

Emily stopped before a glass door with a red sign. A pharmacy. “Just do it,” she whispered, stepping inside.

Shelves were lined with boxes and bottles, but her eyes locked on a small package labeled “Pregnancy Test.” She grabbed it and approached the counter.

“That’s all?” the pharmacist asked, glancing at the item. “Yes,” Emily replied, eyes down. At home, she locked the bathroom door.

“Come on,” she said, nervously tearing open the package. “It’s just a test. Just lines.”

Her fingers shook, but soon it was done. She set the test on the sink’s edge and sat on the floor. Waiting felt eternal.

Her heart pounded louder than the ticking clock. Three minutes passed. She leaned toward the test.

Two lines. Her vision darkened. She sank to the floor, clutching her head.

“Idiot!” she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. “What an idiot!” She covered her face, sobbing. After a while, the sobs turned to quiet whimpers.

She wiped her face and grabbed her phone. “Matthew, I’m pregnant. I don’t know what to do.”

She stared at the text, then hit send. The message went through, but no reply came—not in five minutes, not in an hour. The next day’s cold wind slipped under her coat, the gray sky mirroring her soul…