FIA (A few months later)
The morning light filtered through the lounge windows while I arranged flowers from the garden. My stomach had swollen to the point where bending forward required strategy. I'd given up on grace weeks ago. Now I just focused on not toppling over.
The vase sat on the low table. I reached for a stem of larkspur, its purple petals still damp with dew. Then my fingers found something else. A flower I didn't recognize. Blue petals that seemed to glow even in indirect light.
Moonbell. The name surfaced from somewhere deep in my memory. Rare. Supposed to bloom only under specific conditions.
I lifted it to my nose.
The scent hit me like a fist to the gut. Sweet and sharp and utterly wrong. My stomach clenched. The contraction started low and spread upward, wrapping around my middle with crushing force.
The moonbell dropped from my fingers.
