The next morning, Berlin woke up feeling sick. Her morning sickness had been bad lately, made worse by all the stress.
She ran to the bathroom and threw up.
When she came out, wiping her mouth with a damp cloth, Mrs. Lydia was standing in the doorway.
You're up early," Mrs. Lydia said.
Berlin didn't smile. She just walked to the window and looked out at the dark garden.
The sun wasn't up yet. Everything was gray and shadowy.
"Berlin," Mrs. Lydia said softly. "We need to talk."
"About what?"
Mrs. Lydia turned to face her. "About you and Karlos."
"Mom, not now—"
"Yes, now." Mrs. Lydia came over and took both of Berlin's hands. "Sit down. Please."
Berlin turned to look at her. Her eyes were red from crying.
"I don't want to talk," Berlin said. "I'm tired of talking. I'm tired of everything."
"Please," Mrs. Lydia said, standing beside her. "Just listen to me for a minute.
Berlin sat on the edge of the bed, letting out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
