Megan was one of those little assholes that gave meaning to the word 'radiant' when she was pregnant. From behind, it wasn't obvious at all. She had no muffin top, no arm rolls, no bra bulge. Her little bump was adorable and well shaped. It sounds like I'm some jealous mom that could never shed her baby weight and therefore hate all glowing mommy's to be. But in truth, I just know that I would be a swamp monster if I ever decided to reproduce.

As of now, I'm still against the idea.

It's been a week since I was arrested and spent the night in jail. The morning after, I came down with a serious cold. Running nose. Fever. A cough that made it sound as if I'd been smoking for three hundred years. It was starting to wear off and Megan had been looking after me while she wasn't at work. I felt bad. I was the one that was supposed to be helping her.

"I'm pregnant, Bea," she said, handing me a bowl of little bow pretzels before she settled into the couch beside me. "Not crippled. I'm not even that far along so I'm perfectly capable of pouring a bowl of pretzels. Although, you should probably eat something better."

"Mmm. You might be right. We could have steak and fries for dinner tonight."

She looked up from her phone which was clutched in two hands and raised a disapproving brow.

"I'm not pregnant," I said. "I don't have to go on a health kick."

"You're sick."

"Yeah I need comfort food."

She rolled her eyes and turned back to her phone, tapping, scrolling and ignoring the hand I extended so that I could hold her belly while I crunched pretzels. She didn't mind that I liked to absorb her positive pregnancy vibes and let me caress her as often as I liked. There was something so sweet and special about the fact that she was forming and developing an entire human in her body. And the fact that it's my little sister made it sweeter.

Megan tapped my thigh with the back of her hand. "So, remember how I posted that first photo in the series of my pregnancy shots a couple of weeks ago?"

"Yeah?"

We'd been snapping a photo each week since we moved in together. In front of the window, while the sun was pouring through in the afternoon and created a silhouette. She'd posted the first one but wanted to save the rest for the end result.

"Someone just contacted me through Instagram and asked if you're a maternity photographer. She said, hey. Love that pregnancy shot of you in front of the window. It's gorgeous. I'm six months pregnant and would love to get some photos done but I'm on a tight budget. Do you know how much the photographer charges and if she's taking on new clients? Fine if not. Just searching and most places are way out of my price range."

I sat up straight, putting the bowl beside me on the sofa and snuggled in closer to Megan, gesturing for her to pass me the phone. She handed it over and watched as I tapped out a response.

Photographer here. I'm Bea. What's your budget?

While we waited for a response, I clicked on her profile and had a scroll through her photos.

"First child," Megan said when I opened an announcement that she'd made a few months ago. "She looks young."

"Mmm. Like not even twenty."

I opened another post, one of a pair of booties resting on her bump. The caption said 'I might be doing it alone but I've got enough love for you little mini. I've got all the love that we'll ever need. It's just you and me.'

"Aw she's a solo mom too," Megan rested her head on my shoulder and I scoffed.

"Excuse me. What am I?"

She giggled and gave me a light slap on the arm. The woman replied so I opened it and read the message out loud.

I was given fifty dollars by my Gran to get some photos done but I didn't want to tell her that photographers charge way more. I could do like, a payment plan or something? If you offer that. Again, it's so fine if not. I'm just asking around.

I replied.

I'll do it for 25. I'll link my own account. Message me there to sort out the deets.

Megan leaned back and I met her wide eyed stare.

"What?"

"You're so sweet, Bea. Twenty five is super reasonable. You won't find prices like that in New York."

"Exactly," I gave her phone back. "I've just had the most intelligent thought that has ever come from my own brain. I'm going to offer affordable photography to less fortunate people. Prices that accomodate lower income households. That's it, my new career."

"Bea," Megan leaned forward, gaze downcast and her brows furrowed. "I know that you are quite an impulsive person, hence the reason we now have a decal of Tom Holland in his Spider-Man suit on our window," she pointed at the kitchen window which overlooks the city and of course, there he was, a life sized sticker of him watching over New York. "But careers need to sustain a person. Free work isn't going to sustain you."

"First of all, that decal might be the best investment that I've ever made. Second, I know that. I swear this isn't me jumping head first into something without giving it thought. I can do this."

She smiled and it was a full smile, one that told me she believed in me. It reminded me of Dylan and how he supported whatever venture I chose, no matter how insane and ridiculous. He was right there beside me and even when I stumbled or failed, he was still beside me, helping me up again without hesitation.

I couldn't wait to tell him how I felt.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" We both called out in unison. Ever since we watched a docuseries on the crime channel about Ted Bundy and his woman murdering rampage, we'd flown ourselves into a paranoid frenzy and refused to answer the door without asking who it was first.

The muffled but masculine voice answered. "It's Phoenix."

Megan straightened up so fast that I flinched and knocked the bowl of pretzels over.

"You didn't tell me he was coming over," she panicked and stood up, smoothing down her silk-spun-by-the-gods hair. "How do I look?"

I gave her a once over, assessing her little booty shorts and off the shoulder knit sweater. "Disgusting," I drawled. "You look horrible. As usual."

She rolled her eyes and adjusted herself once more before she rushed to the door. As I started picking up pretzels and dropping them back into the bowl, Megan let Phoenix in and I watched their third interaction in the last week. He'd had some reason to stop in every couple of days but it was obvious that he had an ulterior motive.

He looked casual in a pair of jeans and a hoodie. Even if he wasn't in uniform, he still looked too good to be real. The two of them said hello and she giggled and he laughed and wow it was like watching a rom com unfold in the living room.

Megan tucked her hair behind her ear and started towards the kitchen. "Coffee?"

"That'd be great," he said, smiling after her. When he managed to tear his lovestruck gaze from Megan, he looked at me and started wandering towards the sofa where crumbs and specks of salt covered the fabric. "How are you feeling?"

"Eh. Better," I said, brushing the couch cushions off so that the mess fell on the floor. I'd have to vacuum soon. "What do we owe the pleasure of this surprise visit? Or are you running out of excuses to come over and stare at my friend?"

He sat down and palmed the back of his neck. "Am I that obvious?"

"You have a type, don't you? Complicated blonde girls with a lot of baggage. I'm almost concerned."

"It's a coincidence, I swear."

"Sure, Jan."

"Who's Jan?"

I gave an exaggerated shrug. "I don't know. I just quote a lot of shit I see online so I seem up to date."

He laughed and ran a hand through his lush dark locks. His hair was longer than it had been when we met. A little shaggier but he suited it. He peered over his shoulder at Megan who was tipping spoonfuls of sugar into her mug. She thought that I had no idea about her sweet tooth and she did well to hide it as she didn't eat a lot of sweets. But she made up for it when it came to her decaf coffee.

When I saw how the two of them blushed and smiled whenever their eyes met, I became so damn glad that the furthest things had gone between Phoenix and I was dinner. If things were going to go further between them, it might have been awkward knowing that we'd slept together. As sweet as their infatuation was, I couldn't help but wonder if Phoenix wasn't too youthful for Megan, I so badly wanted to point out the fact that he wasn't in his forties and therefore, she should have been asking after his dad.

"Here we are," Megan said as she wandered over to the sofa and set two hot mugs on the coffee table. As she straightened up, she looked at me and her mouth fell open. "Oh, Bea, shit, I didn't make you a coffee. I'll go and get it now—"

"It's fin—"

"That was rude. Sit tight. I'll be right back."

I sighed and watched her speed waddle back into the kitchen. Of course she forgot to make me a coffee. Her brain was fixated on the gorgeous police officer sitting on her sofa with a smouldering grin on his plush lips. Most women would forget their own names in his presence. But her hormones were tricking her into believing that simple mistakes were the biggest tragedies in the world. I left her to right her wrongs. She was so cute.

"So, I realised something interesting when I was looking into this whole birth mom thing for you," Phoenix leaned back into the couch with his coffee. He'd been investigating the burial place of the woman who birthed me. I was curious, that's all.

"Oh yeah. What's that?"

"I used to live in the same apartment building that your father lives in now. When I was a kid."

I raised a brow. "What does Kevin's address have to do with anything."

"Investigations have to start somewhere. We end up with a lot of information about a lot of different people and he's involved, so his information came into account. I mean, his address didn't serve much purpose but I recognised it when it came up."

"Huh," I nodded. "I've lived there most of my life. We must have been there at the same time."

His gaze downcast to his cup and ran his thumb along the rim as he spoke. "I think I might have met you. When we were kids. Maybe it was you. We lived on the sixteenth floor. I was out in the hall playing with a ball and this girl came out and—"

"Hold the phone!" I gasped and slapped his arm, almost knocking the drink out of his hand. "We played passes, right? But then your dad or step dad or—"

"My step dad," he confirmed with a quick nod, like he was excited that his theory was correct. "Yeah he took me inside and shouted at me about the noise that the ball was making."

"I can't believe that was you," I snatched the tissues off the coffee table and wiped at my nose which was running and blocked at the same time. "I went inside and asked mom if you could come and live with us."

"Really?" He laughed as Megan sat back down, looking between us with elation.

"Yeah," I continued. "I felt so bad that you didn't have a mom, I wanted to share mine," my voice broke at the mention of Cassandra, the woman who chose to love me and raise me as her own. I had to believe that deep down, she wanted to save the little boy from apartment 309 too.

"Your mom talked to me quite a few times before we moved," he mentioned, bringing me out of a day dream. "She used to find me in the hall a lot and she would sit down with me and ask me if I was alright. I never answered her because. . . I don't know, I didn't talk a whole lot. But I remember her so well. She used to tell me that it wouldn't always be like this and one day, I would be old enough to do whatever I wanted to do and be whoever I wanted to be and it seemed like a long time, but being a kid was the shortest time of all and I'd have far longer being a free adult, if I could just stay positive for a while longer."

I swallowed and felt the harsh beat of my heart in my ears. "That sounds like mom."

Phoenix was gazing off into the distance with a soft smile. "Yeah. When I was a kid, I thought of her as an angel. She got me through until I was old enough to move out. For real. When it was super hard, I used to remember her telling me that being a kid was short and being an adult was far longer. And then I could do whatever I wanted. That helped more than she probably knew."

Megan clutched her heart. "I can't believe you guys knew each other. And Bea, your mom was an angel to Phoenix too. Just like you call her all the time."

I wanted to cry but I'd had enough of that.

"Do you believe in fate?" Megan said, I wasn't sure who she was talking to, but Phoenix looked at her and smiled.

"I do."

The room was still for a moment and I swear that literal sparks were pinging between the two of them. I was witnessing a love story unfold right before me.

"So," I cleared my throat and the two of them broke their intense staring. "Did the investigation turn something up, other than our crossed paths as children?"

Phoenix nodded and slid forward on the sofa so that he could put his mug down. He reached into his hoodie pocket and produced a small piece of paper, which he handed to me. I wasn't even sure what was on it but the weight of it was astronomical.

"That's the address of the cemetery and the coordinates for her burial plot. She does have an estranged mother who lives in Florida but when I spoke to her on the phone, she said that she hadn't seen her daughter for a long time before she died and didn't know a thing about what had been happening in her life at the time."

"You didn't mention me, right?"

"No," he shook his head and I couldn't help but notice how well he transitioned from casual friend to professional police officer in a matter of moments. "No I didn't. I just said that I was clearing stuff out of our evidence room and a bag of her clothes had been there for a long time. She didn't want them."

"Sheesh," I recoiled and unfolded the paper, reading the brief instructions to her burial plot. Third row from the south entrance. Five headstones in. "That's awful. People are so strange. I can't imagine having a child of my own and being content with having nothing to do with him or her. I mean, it's fucked."

Megan let her hand come to rest on top of her bump. "Bea, do you ever blame yourself for Kevin being who he is? Like, do you ever shoulder the fact that he's so cold and distant?"

I scoffed. "Of course not. Well, maybe a little bit at one point. I guess I thought that if I did what he wanted me to, it'd make him happier and he might take the time to have a real conversation with me. That's probably why I spent two years in law when I hated it so much. But then I saw that it made no difference to how he treated me and I realised it wasn't worth it. Making myself miserable to please him, wasn't worth it."

Phoenix and Megan fell quiet, their gazes full of sympathy.

"I might have struggled with it a lot more had it not been for mom. She moulded me into a strong woman. Strong ish."

Megan smiled. "You are strong, Bea."

"Strong but for sure prone to mental breakdowns," I added.

She didn't laugh, she gave me a tight lipped smile, but she didn't laugh.

"So," Phoenix gestured at the paper that was being held tight by my fingertips. I didn't want to hold it with my whole hand, it felt tainted and dirty. As if I had information about the traitor and if mom knew, she would be hurt. So I held it like one might hold a contaminated tissue. "What are you going to do with that information?"

"I'm not sure," I said, staring at it. "But I do know one thing, it doesn't come before Dylan. Not this time."

Megan scooted forward. "Wait, what? You're going to go and see him?"

"Yep," I stood up and had a mild case of head rush because I'd been on my ass for too long and I guess I needed to get some decent food in me. That could wait too. "I've been on this theory that I had to have my entire life in absolute order before I had room for him and. . . actually, I'm going to tell him all of this before I tell it to you. Have a good afternoon. I'm out."

I looked down at my PJs and felt the thick mess of hair on the top of my head. "Right after a shower."