“I’ll tell you when the time is right.”
“There is no ‘right time.’ This has to be stopped,” Mikhail said.
At that moment, I realized they weren’t talking about me.
They were talking about the inconvenience.
About people.
About what the family name would look like.
“I’m not ending the pregnancy,” I said.
“You can’t do this!” Silvia shouted.
“I already am.”
After that, the phone calls began.
First every day.
Then several times a day.
“Think about your health.”
“Think about what people will say.”
“Think about us.”
But the words “think about us” gradually began to mean something else.
Mikhail asked whether I had changed my will.
Silvia asked whether Todor had any rights to my properties.
Then I learned that they had gone to a notary to ask how they could have me placed under legal guardianship.
The day Emilia was born, they sent me a letter.
