“It’s not that.” I made a spontaneous decision. Jay needed to know what he’d gotten himself into. I gathered all the courage I had in me, trying not to cry harder.

“Marna.” I took her hand. “You’re pregnant.”

The three of them stared at me. Ginger was the first to react. She grabbed my shirt in both fists and shook me, screaming, “Shut up! You shut your bloody mouth!”

Jay tried to pry her off me, and I grabbed her wrists, staring her in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Ginger.”

She shoved me away like I’d burned her, and stumbled back into Jay’s desk, looking rabid. Marna stood still with her eyes wide.

Jay glared at me. “This is not cool. Why would you say that?”

“She can’t be,” Ginger whimpered. “She had the surgery. We both did.”

Jay’s head swung toward her, a look of confusion on his face. I’d worry about him in a minute.

Right now, my mind searched for a possible answer. “We heal fast. Maybe the surgery corrected itself before it had a chance to take? But . . . I wonder why you never got pregnant before this?”

“Anna!” Oh, man. Jay looked appalled, and I couldn’t blame him.

“I usually don’t . . . ,” Marna whispered. Her eyes were glazed when she looked up at me. “I do other things, if I can help it. You know . . . anything but?”

“A half-arsed worker, just like you,” Ginger mumbled.

“What the hell are you guys talking about?” Jay sounded frustrated now.

Ginger ignored him and yelled, “This is stupid! You can’t possibly know she’s pregnant, Anna. She’d be less than a week!”

“I’ve always been able to sense it,” I said. I opened my mouth to explain and became very aware of Jay’s stare. He looked at me as if I were a stranger. “Jay,” I whispered, “I have a lot to tell you.”

“You’re being weird, Anna. You’ve always been weird, but this ain’t right.”

My eyes watered again. His words hurt. I knew what it must sound like to him.

Ginger stepped up to Jay. “I need you to shut up and stay out of this while we figure it out. Then we’ll all leave you alone and you won’t have to see any of us freaks again.”

His face scrunched in bafflement.

“Stop it, Gin!” Marna grabbed Jay’s arm, and he wrapped it around her, glancing at our faces like he’d found himself in another dimension.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jay said. “I just want to know what’s going on.”

“I can sense a warmth,” I said, pushing on despite the overwhelming awkward tension. “It’s like an aura, but different. I can feel the extra life force—”

“It’s a multicellular freaking zygote!” Ginger screamed. “Not a life force! Not a soul!”

“I didn’t say . . . I meant, I just don’t know.” It was so hard to explain. “It’s like . . . an extension of Marna, only a tiny, separate entity.”

Ginger started pacing. “Oh, God. Oh, God. We need one of those morning-after pills.”

Marna’s eyes widened. “I’m not taking any pill!”

“An operation, then!”

Marna shook her head. “It doesn’t work, Gin. You know that! Other Neph have tried it, and it kills them just the same.”

Jay dropped his arm from Marna’s shoulder and stepped back. I’d never seen him so freaked out. The twins kept arguing.

“Those other Neph couldn’t have been as early on as you,” Ginger reasoned. “If there’s no soul in the thing yet, then you’re safe. When do babies get their souls?”

Both sisters looked at me, and I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

I knew souls were created in the heavenly realm, and the Maker knew every detail of our earthly lives and our purposes, starting from conception, but it was never specified at what part of the process the soul was embedded in the flesh.

“I’m not having an abortion,” Marna said. “I don’t care if there’s a soul yet or not. I’m not having one.”

“Why the hell not?” Ginger’s voice reached an all-time high. She got in Marna’s face. “Don’t be an idiot! There could still be time!”

Marna blinked and tears streamed down her cheeks. “And I could die today! I’m not doing it!”

Jay and I stood watching, silent.

Ginger was shaking. Marna covered her mouth, her eyes spilling over as she sat on the bed.

“I’m . . . I’m going to have a baby, Gin,” she whispered.

“You will be dead, Marna. Dead! You won’t get to enjoy it. You can’t be a mother!”

“But you can raise her and tell her about me—”

Ginger reeled back, scowling. “I don’t want anything to do with this creature! And how will I raise your stupid baby when I’m working? Shall I ask Grandfather Astaroth to babysit?” She looked wildly around the room, then grabbed Marna’s wrist. “We’re going to a clinic. Now.”

Ginger turned, and Marna twisted out of her grip. “I’m not going!”

A vicious, crazed scream tore from Ginger’s lips. Marna tried to reach for her, but Ginger slapped her hand away.

“Gin, please,” Marna sobbed.

Ginger turned to me, and I froze. “You! Fix this. Pray.”