Chapter 37 Ghosts in the Machine
Lila's POV
I woke up to the smell of coffee and bacon.
For a disorienting moment, I thought I was back in my apartment, that Ethan had made breakfast like he used to on Sunday mornings. Then reality crashed back the safe house, Adrian in a coma, the impossible choice waiting for me.
I sat up slowly, my hand moving instinctively to my stomach. Still flat. Still no visible sign of the life growing inside me. But I could feel it somehow, a presence that made everything else more urgent, more terrifying.
Marcus was in the kitchen when I emerged, dressed in dark tactical pants and a fitted black shirt that made him look every inch the former special forces operative he probably was.
"Morning," he said, sliding a plate across the counter. "Scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, whole wheat toast. Dr. Chen sent over a nutrition plan. Apparently, you need more protein and iron."
I stared at the food. "You cook?"
"I follow instructions," he corrected. "There's a difference."
Despite everything, I almost smiled. I sat down and picked up a fork, forcing myself to eat even though my stomach was in knots.
"How long have you been awake?" I asked.
"Since five. Security briefing at five-thirty, perimeter check at six, grocery delivery at six-forty-five." He poured himself coffee. "You were sleeping, so I didn't wake you."
"Do you ever sleep?"
"When the situation allows." He leaned against the counter, watching me eat with the same intensity he probably used to watch for threats. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I'm living in a very expensive nightmare," I said honestly. "But the eggs are good, so there's that."
He nodded, accepting my deflection. "The Coles want an answer by noon."
I glanced at the clock on the microwave. 9:47 AM. Just over two hours.
"What would you do?" I asked. "If you were me?"
Marcus was quiet for a long moment. "I'd ask myself what Adrian would want. Not what he'd tell you to do, but what he'd actually want if he knew all the variables."
"He'd want me safe," I said immediately.
"Yes. But he'd also want justice. Adrian spent months building a case against Stirling-Hale because he believed they needed to be stopped, not just for him, but for everyone they'd hurt." Marcus set down his coffee. "He was willing to risk himself for that. The question is are you willing to risk yourself for the same thing?"
"That's not fair. He's not pregnant."
"No," Marcus agreed. "Which makes your decision harder, not easier. But it also makes you more valuable to them."
"Because they won't expect a pregnant woman to fight back," I said bitterly.
"Because Ethan won't," Marcus corrected. "He'll see you as vulnerable, emotional, easy to manipulate. That's his weakness he underestimates the people he's hurt."
I pushed the eggs around my plate. "What if I can't do it? What if I see him and just... fall apart?"
"Then I'll be there to put you back together," Marcus said simply. "But Lila you're stronger than you think. I've seen a lot of people break under less pressure than what you've endured. You haven't broken. You're bending, yes, but you haven't snapped."
"Yet," I muttered.
"Yet," he acknowledged.
At 10:15 AM, my phone buzzed with a message from Eleanor.
Eleanor Cole: Dr. Chen would like to see you at 11 AM for an initial prenatal assessment. Marcus will escort you. This is not optional.
I showed the message to Marcus, who nodded. "Good. You need a proper medical evaluation anyway."
"Everything in my life is 'not optional' now," I said.
"Welcome to the Cole family," Marcus said dryly. "Where even breakfast is a strategic decision."
Dr. Chen's office was on a different floor of the medical facility the obstetrics wing, apparently. It was warmer than the rest of the building, decorated in soft blues and creams, with abstract art that was probably supposed to be calming.
It just reminded me that this was real. The pregnancy was real.
Dr. Chen greeted me with a warm smile. "Lila, how are you feeling this morning?"
"Terrified, confused, and slightly nauseous," I admitted.
"All completely normal for early pregnancy and extraordinary circumstances," she said. "Let's get you checked out, make sure everything is progressing well."
The examination was thorough but gentle. Blood pressure, blood work, a physical exam. Then came the ultrasound.
I lay on the exam table, staring at the ceiling as Dr. Chen applied cold gel to my stomach.
"This might feel strange," she warned, pressing the wand against my abdomen.
Then I heard it.
A rapid, steady sound like a tiny galloping horse.
"Is that—" My voice cracked.
"That's your baby's heartbeat," Dr. Chen said softly, turning the monitor so I could see. "Right there."
On the screen was a small, blurry shape. Barely recognizable as human, but unmistakably alive.
Tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them.
"Everything looks good," Dr. Chen said. "Based on your hormone levels and the size, I'd estimate you're about seven weeks along. Due date would be approximately late June, early July."
Seven weeks. The night at the hotel. The night I'd woken up beside Adrian and thought my life was over.
The night my life had actually begun.
"Can I have a picture?" I whispered.
Dr. Chen smiled and printed out several ultrasound images. "Of course."
I stared at the grainy image, at the tiny bean-shaped life that was half me, half Adrian. A child neither of us had planned, conceived in circumstances neither of us could have predicted.
But real. Undeniably, impossibly real.
"Does Adrian know?" Dr. Chen asked gently. "Before the crash, did you tell him?"
"No," I said. "I found out the day after. In a police station, while the news was reporting he was dead." I wiped my eyes. "He doesn't know he's going to be a father."
"Then I think," Dr. Chen said carefully, "that's something he should hear from you. When he wakes up."
When, not if.
I held onto that word like a prayer.