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𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄

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Sunshine stood motionless before the memorial plaque, her eyes tracing the engraved names of the students who had been killed. A total of fifteen were written, but all she could focus on were the names attached to the faces that haunted her from last night. 

Kyle Greenwell. Chloe Stapleton. Stephanie Boggs. Amir Stanley. Kevin Gedman. 

Her stomach churned violently, and she swallowed hard, trying to push back the overwhelming nausea that crept up her throat.

"You're not the first one to come here."

Sunshine spun around at the sound of the voice, startled out of her thoughts. Behind her sat Mr. Carmichael, her calculus teacher, his wheelchair creaking as he rolled closer.

"What?" Sunshine blinked, trying to make sense of his words. 

"Your sister," he clarified, nodding toward the plaque. "Violet. She was already here. Came in a an hour ago asking questions about the shooter."

Sunshine's heart skipped a beat, confusion sweeping over her. Violet? Why would Violet have come here? Why would she ask about this? 

"Tate Langdon?" she asked, though the answer was already burning in the pit of her stomach.

Mr. Carmichael nodded, his face slightly annoyed. "She seemed pretty upset."

Sunshine's vision blurred, the nausea that had been bubbling up finally taking hold. Her body betrayed her, and before she could stop it, she bolted for the nearest trash can. The retching sounds filled the library as she doubled over, her body convulsing as she emptied the contents of her stomach.

She wiped her mouth shakily with the back of her hand, leaning over the trash can, gasping for air. Tears welled up in her eyes as the weight of everything came crashing down on her. The truth was too heavy to bear. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to breathe, but the image of those faces—their names etched into the plaque—was seared into her mind. She couldn't escape it. She couldn't run from the truth.

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Ms. Peggy, with her warm Southern drawl and sharp eyes, glanced at the thermometer. "Well, you don't have a fever," she glanced at her with a raised brow, the question coming out casually but pointedly. "Any tenderness in your breasts?" 

Sunshine blinked, shrugging her shoulders. Maybe? It was hard to tell. Tenderness came and went with her period, so she never really thought much of it. "I guess," she muttered, not really seeing the relevance.

Ms. Peggy continued, undeterred. "Frequent urination? Weight gain?"

Sunshine's brow furrowed. Weight gain? She hesitated, her mind running back over the past few weeks. She had been running to the bathroom more often and, come to think of it, her clothes had felt a bit snug lately. But she chalked that up to stress-eating or just not paying attention.

Sunshine nodded slowly.

Ms. Peggy studied her, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "When was the last time you had your period?"

Sunshine blinked, caught off guard by the question. The words almost made her laugh. Did she really think she was pregnant? 

"I don't know. Life's been pretty stressful," she muttered, brushing the question aside. 

Ms. Peggy, however, was unfazed by Sunshine's attempt to downplay the situation. After a beat, she walked over to one of the counters. Sunshine's eyes followed her as she bent down and rummaged through the lower cabinets. When she stood up, Ms . Peggy held a small box—a pregnancy test.

Sunshine's stomach twisted, confusion flickering in her eyes. She stared at the box, then up at the nurse. "I don't need that,"

"You're not leaving this office until you do," Ms. Peggy said, pushing the box into Sunshine's hands.

With a dramatic roll of her eyes, Sunshine sighed, clearly not in the mood for this argument. She snatched the test from the nurse, muttering under her breath, "This is stupid." 

She trudged into the small bathroom connected to the office, slamming the door behind her with more force than she meant to. 

Sunshine ripped open the box, scoffing at the absurdity of the situation. Pregnant? Really? The idea felt ridiculous. The only reason she was going through with this was to prove Ms. Peggy wrong and finally get out of here. She skimmed the instructions, though they weren't exactly rocket science.

Sighing, she sat down on the cold toilet seat, lowering her sweatpants to her knees. She relieved herself onto the stick and then placed it on the counter, her movements robotic and detached. 

She washed her hands and splashed cold water onto her face, trying to shake off the lingering queasiness that had been gnawing at her since this morning. Her reflection stared back at her, pale and tired.

Without even glancing at the test, Sunshine grabbed it from the counter, fully expecting to hand over a negative result. She pushed open the bathroom door and placed the test in front of Ms. Peggy with a casual shrug. "See? I'm fine," 

Ms. Peggy leaned forward, peering at the test, she pointed at the plastic stick. "Those two pink lines tell me otherwise."

The room seemed to tilt around Sunshine. Her stomach dropped, a hollow pit forming in her gut. She whipped her head around, staring down at the test. 

Two lines. 

"That's impossible," Sunshine blinked, her pulse thundering in her ears. "I've never had sex."

Ms. Peggy arched an eyebrow, her skepticism cutting through Sunshine's rising panic. "You really expect me to believe you're pregnant with the second coming of Christ?" she asked, her tone half-amused, half-disbelieving. "Nice try."

But Sunshine wasn't lying. This can't be real.

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first. Her throat felt dry, her stomach twisted in knots. 

Ms. Peggy leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with an exasperated sigh. "Honey, I've heard it all before. If I had a nickel for every girl who said she didn't know how it happened..." She trailed off, rolling her eyes as if the entire situation was mundane. "Let's be real here. Did something happen and you just don't want to admit it?"

Sunshine shook her head violently. "No. I'm telling you, nothing happened." Her voice cracked with desperation. "I've never... I've never even..."

Suddenly, the air felt too thick, the room too small. Sunshine stumbled backward, hitting a chair. "I need to go," she blurted out. She grabbed her bag, fumbling with the strap, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

"Wait, hold on—" Ms. Peggy stood up, alarm flashing in her eyes. "You can't just leave. We need to—"

But Sunshine was already heading for the door, her breath shallow, her heart racing as panic swallowed her whole. She pushed through the door, entering the hallway. She couldn't stay. She couldn't face this. Whatever this was, it wasn't normal, and she had to get away from it. 

But deep down, Sunshine knew there was no escaping the truth.

There never had been.

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