She went through her days mechanically, functioning automatically. There was always work to be done, always something to keep her busy. She tried not to think. She didn't like to sleep, because she always dreamed sad dreams, because she didn't like having the bed to herself, because she felt so alone. She didn't tell anyone she was pregnant – she wanted to avoid the questions. She knew that eventually she wouldn't be able to hide it anymore, but for now she kept silent. She wasn't ready.
She wasn't ready.