Weeks later she is sitting on the edge of the bathtub, when the door swings open. Bay looks at her.
"Close the door," Daphne says softly.
Bay closes the door, and locks it behind her. She stares at Daphne. Daphne's face is red from crying. Her hair is secured in a braid. She is still wearing her pajama's as it is barely six o'clock in the morning.
"I got your text message. You said it was urgent. What's wrong?"
Daphne looks at Bay. She is still in her pajama's too.
"Daphne?"
Daphne says nothing, she just points towards the counter. Bay turns, and looks at the countertop. She stares at an empty box. She lifts it off the counter. She turns to Daphne.
"Oh," Bay's heart sinks.
Daphne swallows hard, "I didn't know who else to..."
Bay cuts her off, "It's ok. Have you taken it yet?"
Daphne simply nods. Bay realizes that Daphne clings to something in her hands. Her fingers are tightly wrapped around the object. Bay squats next to the bathtub.
"Can I see?"
Daphne holds the object out, in front of her. Bay looks at the tiny plastic stick. Her stomach turns at the sight of it.
"Apparently Wilke dying wasn't enough."
"You can't think like that," Bay argues.
"What am I going to do?" Daphne questions.
"Whatever you want to."
"But I don't know what that is," she admits.
"How did this happen?"
"That night, with Wilke. I was so stupid. I should have been more careful. I should have known better. What was I thinking?"
"It was an accident."
"Is that a statement or a question?"
"A statement. I certainly don't think that you would do this on purpose."
Daphne shakes her head, "That is not how they are going to see it," she points to the door.
"They don't have to know."
"But if they find out they will think I am being ungrateful. They will say I am throwing my future away. They'll wonder how I could have been so careless."
"They will say that they never expected this to happen to you."
"Bay, I didn't mean it like that."
"I know, but it's the truth."
"What if they find out?"
"Who is going to tell them? I know I'm not. Your secret is safe with me."
"Bay I'm scared."
"I know."
"Tell me what to do."
"Daphne I can't tell you what to do. You have to decide that on your own."
"I am seventeen years old. This happened six weeks ago. This is will ruin everything. I want to go to college. I want to finish high school. I don't want to be the pregnant, teenage, deaf girl. I don't want to be a teenage mother."
"Then don't be. Daphne no one ever has to know about this."
"But I will. I will always know," she cries.
Bay hugs her.
"It's my fault that Wilke is dead, and..." she trails off.
Bay lets go. She looks at Daphne with a, you can't be serious, look.
"I am responsible for this, too."
"It wasn't your fault."
"Yes it was," Daphne argues.
"Daphne," Bay tries to reason with her.
"This is my fault, my responsibility. Maybe this is a sign..."
Bay cuts her off, "You want to throw everything you have worked for your entire life, for this? Daphne you don't want to do this. You grew up in a house with a single mother. You know how hard that is. It doesn't get easier."
"I know. I am just so confused right now."
"Why don't you give me that? I will toss the evidence on my way home. You think about what you want to do. Sleep on it. Whenever you make a decision then you can let me know."
"Ok," she agrees.
Kathryn turns to John. She sips her coffee, and furrows her brow.
"What's on your mind?" he questions from behind the morning paper.
"Have you seen Daphne this morning?"
"No."
Kathryn looks at her watch, "She has school this morning, and she is usually down here by now."
"Maybe she is working on last minute homework," he suggests.
"Daphne always does her homework."
He folds the paper, and looks at his wife. "Do you want me to go check on her?"
"No, I'll go," she answers placing her coffee mug on the counter top. She leaves the kitchen, and heads for the stairs. She finds Daphne's door open. She enters the room. She knows that calling out is futile. She stops outside the bathroom door. She turns to go, satisfied that Daphne is still just getting ready. Before she can take more than two steps away from the bathroom she hears a sound coming from inside. She turns around, and looks at the door. She reaches for the knob. She twists it, and much to her surprise it opens. She steps into the room. Daphne still has no idea that she is there. Kathryn watches in horror as Daphne sits in front of the toilet emptying the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl. Finally Daphne finishes. She flushes, and stands up. Her eyes widen as she looks at Kathryn.
"What are you doing in here?"
"Are you ok?" Kathryn questions.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"You don't look fine. Do you have a fever?" Kathryn reaches out, and presses her hand to Daphne's forehead.
"No," she goes to the sink, and grabs her mouthwash. She pours some into a Dixie cup.
"If you're sick you should stay home from school."
Daphne spits, and reaches for her toothbrush.
"I don't want you making anyone else sick."
"I'll be fine," she insists after spitting toothpaste into the sink.
"Are you sure? Daphne I really think that you should stay home. How long has this been going on? Maybe I should take you to the doctor."
"That isn't necessary, I will be fine."
"How long has this been going on?"
Daphne shrugs, "I feel better already," she lies.
"Why don't you just answer my question?"
"I really need to get going for school, I don't want to be late," she tries to get past her.
Kathryn stands between her, and the doorway. Kathryn takes note of the fact that Daphne has barely made eye contact their entire conversation. The only time she has even looked at Kathryn is to read her responses.
"Daphne?"
"I'm fine."
"Are you pregnant?"
"What?! Why would you ask me that?"
Kathryn shrugs, "I don't know. Are you?"
"No!"