I tried to breathe slowly through my nose and close my eyes, trying to forget the nausea that kept me by the stinking ditch. It was a couple months into the pregnancy and just because my baby was special didn't mean my body's reactions were. The morning sickness was pretty bad. So were the cramps. And, really, no one in the FAYZ really knew how to cope with pregnancy. So I just kept my head down and hoped I didn't bother anyone as I miserably walked back to what served as my home.

Well, Dahra was probably feeling it worst. She had scoured the doctor's books on pregnancy quickly after finding out. I'd found out she'd skipped them because she didn't think she'd have to use them, and she really didn't want to read them. I don't blame her. Their drawings were pretty disgusting, after all. But anything that helped to keep the baby alive. Besides, we were lucky that the books survived in the first place, and that Dahra'd happened to bring them.

I first found out about it two or three months ago. Then came the Battle of the Bugs and The Lake Move. I'd been horrified; I'd only slept with Caine a couple of times. Still, because of my powers I knew almost right away. Long before any pre-FAYZ pregnancy test would tell. Since then I've been emotionally out there, half of the time on the verge of snapping at some small kid for some petty or immaterial reason.

Thank goodness for Sam, by the way. He was technically the baby's uncle, being Caine's brother, but he was the one who supported me the most. God knows where I'd be if it weren't for his encouraging words, even if they seemed to be awkward for him. It was cute when he said them, not 'mocking' or 'threateningly', as my sick, torn mind called it, as when the other kids said the same things.

However, something bad happened lately. I was peeing out weird things. I didn't mention it to Dahra, or to Sam. It was just another one of those pregnancy things, right? I touched my stomach, waiting to feel the comfortableness of the two bar child there. I didn't feel anything. My blood ran like slick ice through my veins and I dreaded it as I put my hands to my stomach again to confirm what I had known.

I've spent the last eight months in a dome with a 10 mile radius. I'd been at the head and at the fangs of the mob. Id left Coates behind. I'd eaten human flesh. I'd shared my bed with Caine. It all seems so minor, even emblazoned in my memory as it is, with this last news. I'm Diana Ladris, with fourteen tedious years under my belt, and I've just had my first miscarriage.

I sat down on the deck and cried. I don't know why. I hated that baby. It reminded me of how Caine had used me, thrown me away, and expected me to be there when he felt like using me again. The ultimate reminder. Then I quieted my tears. Someone might hear. I was Diana. Strong, cold Diana. I wasn't supposed to cry. I was supposed to be above petty things like tears. Yet I couldn't stop. Not for a while, anyway. After a good long cry I just sat there, staring into nothingness from a slightly out of sight position. I didn't want anyone to see me like this.

"Too late, Diana, if you wanted to hide." Sam sat down behind me, and suddenly tears burst from my eyes again and I turned around, burying my face in his shirt, tears creating small damp splotches. He froze for a moment. I'd never hugged him before, though he'd comforted me and helped me cope since we all moved here. Even so, he quickly put his arms around me, patting my back. Turned me away from everyone else, like he was protecting me. If there was anyone I could cry in front of, it was definitely Sam.

It was nice, that feeling of being sheltered, of being safe, even momentarily. Then I remembered. I had to tell him. "Sam, it's gone."

"What? What's gone?" He seemed confused for a moment, unwrapping me and setting me up on the bench like I was a fragile piece of glass. Sometimes I wish Caine could be more like him, not just the needy little puppy. Even so, I could only wonder how he'd be afterwards. "Sam, it turns out you're not going to be an uncle just yet." And I then I worked up the courage to say it aloud for the first time. "The baby is gone."