Chapter 74 THE FACADE
Medea's Pov
I decided the best way to sell the lie was to really commit to it so I threw myself into preparing for the baby. If I acted like a real pregnant woman then maybe people would stop looking at me so suspiciously.
I went shopping for baby clothes with some of the pack women. They were all excited and kept touching my stomach which made me want to scream but I just smiled and pretended I loved it.
"Have you thought about names yet?" one of the women asked.
"Not really. Raphael and I are still deciding," I said.
"What about nursery colors?" another woman asked.
"I'm thinking soft blues and whites. Something calming," I said even though I hadn't thought about it at all until right then.
We spent hours looking at tiny clothes and blankets, running our hands over the soft fabrics and imagining little feet and hands in them. I bought way too much stuff—more than I actually needed—but that’s what pregnant women did, right? They got excited and bought everything, indulging in the little joys of preparing for a life they hadn’t met yet. Each item felt like a small victory, a way to grasp at normalcy, even as the rest of my world felt like it was spiraling out of control.
When I got home I started setting up the nursery in one of the spare rooms. Raphael came in while I was unpacking bags.
"Wow you really went shopping," Raphael said.
"I got a little carried away. Is that okay?" I asked.
"Of course. I want you to have everything you need," Raphael said and he kissed my forehead.
"I was thinking we could paint the room this weekend. Make it really special," I said.
"That sounds great. I'll help," Raphael said.
After he left I sat in the middle of all the baby stuff and felt like a fraud. None of this was real. I might not even be pregnant and here I was decorating a nursery for a baby that might not exist.
The next day Eclipse called and told me I should sign up for prenatal classes.
"Why? I'm not really pregnant yet. What if someone figures it out?" I said.
"That's exactly why you need to go. Pregnant women go to these classes. If you don't go people will wonder why," Eclipse said.
"Fine. I'll sign up," I said.
So I registered for a prenatal class at the pack's community center. The first class was that evening and I almost didn't go but then I remembered what Eclipse said about keeping up appearances.
There were about ten other women there and they all looked actually pregnant. Some of them had big bellies already and I felt like everyone could tell I was faking.
The instructor was this cheerful woman named Sandra who talked way too loud.
“Welcome, everyone,” Sandra said warmly, her voice carrying across the room. “Let’s go around and introduce ourselves. Tell us your name and how far along you are.” She smiled encouragingly, making the request feel friendly rather than obligatory. One by one, the expectant mothers shared their names and gestational stages, some beaming with excitement, others shy or nervous. I listened quietly, jotting notes and observing, keeping my focus split between the class and the ever-present tension that weighed on me, refusing to let my guard down for even a moment.
My heart started pounding because I had to lie to all these people.
When it was my turn I said "I'm Medea and I'm about two months along."
"Congratulations Luna Medea. We're so honored to have you in our class," Sandra said and everyone clapped.
I wanted to disappear.
After introductions Sandra started talking about the different stages of pregnancy and what symptoms to expect. I tried to pay attention but my mind kept wandering.
Then during break one of the other women came up to me. She had a huge belly and looked really tired.
"Hi I'm Cara. This is my third baby," Cara said.
"Nice to meet you," I said.
"How are you feeling? The first trimester is always the worst for me. The morning sickness is brutal," Cara said.
"Oh yeah it's been pretty bad," I lied.
“Are you getting the food cravings yet?” Cara asked, a playful lilt in her voice. “With my first, I wanted pickles and ice cream all the time. So cliché, right?” She laughed, the sound light and easy, like she didn’t have a care in the world. I forced a small smile, nodding along, though the conversation felt distant. Her enthusiasm clashed sharply with the tight knot of worry I carried, and I couldn’t help but feel removed from the simple joys she was describing.
"Um not really. Not yet anyway," I said.
"Lucky you. I couldn't stop eating weird combinations. My mate thought I was crazy," Cara said.
Another woman joined our conversation.
"I heard that some women don't get cravings at all. Everyone is different," the woman said.
"That's true. My sister barely had any symptoms when she was pregnant. She said she felt totally normal," Cara said.
I nodded along but inside I was panicking. I didn't know what symptoms I was supposed to be having. What if someone asked me something specific and I gave the wrong answer?
After class I went home and immediately started researching pregnancy symptoms on my phone. I needed to know everything so I could fake it better.
I made a list of symptoms and when they usually happened. Morning sickness in the first trimester. Food cravings. Fatigue. Mood swings. Tender breasts. I memorized all of it.
The next few days I started acting out the symptoms. I complained about being nauseous in the mornings. I told Raphael I was craving weird food combinations. I took naps in the afternoon because pregnant women got tired.
"Are you sure you're okay? Maybe we should have Dr. Lake check on you more often," Raphael said one morning when I pretended to throw up.
"No I'm fine. This is all normal pregnancy stuff," I said.
"If you're sure," Raphael said but he looked worried.
"I'm sure. The books say this is totally normal," I said.
I kept going to the prenatal classes because Eclipse said I had to, and skipping wasn’t an option. Each week, Sandra would cover a new topic—nutrition, breathing techniques, preparing for labor—and I would scribble notes frantically, as if my life depended on it, because in a way, it kind of did. Every detail mattered, every tip could be the difference between control and chaos. I listened, absorbed, and memorized, trying to turn fear into preparation, one note at a time.
The other mothers in the class chatted and laughed, oblivious to the tension I carried with me. Their carefree questions and smiles only reminded me of how little I could afford to relax. My mind was always half on Eclipse, half on the child I was determined to protect, and half on the possibility that everything could fall apart the moment I let my guard down. Sitting there, taking notes, I felt both vigilant and desperate, clinging to every bit of knowledge as armor.
At one class Sandra asked us all to share our experiences so far.
"Who wants to tell us about their pregnancy journey?" Sandra asked.
Several women raised their hands and shared stories about doctor visits and ultrasounds and feeling the baby kick. I just sat there and stayed quiet because I had nothing real to share.
"Luna Medea? Would you like to share anything?" Sandra asked.
Everyone looked at me and I felt my face get hot.
"Um not really. Everything has been pretty normal so far," I said.
"That's wonderful. Normal is good," Sandra said.
After class I practically ran to my car because I couldn't stand being around all those actually pregnant women anymore. They were so happy and excited and I was just pretending.
When I got home there was a package waiting for me. It was more baby stuff that I ordered online. I brought it inside and added it to the growing pile in the nursery.
Raphael came in and smiled when he saw everything.
"This room is really coming together. Our baby is going to be so loved," Raphael said.
"Yeah. So loved," I said and my voice sounded hollow.