The word detonated in Noa’s skull, collapsing the air out of his lungs, punching the ground out from under him. Pregnant. Pregnant. His hand flew to his abdomen like he could feel it, like something there had already changed, like his body knew before his brain could catch up.

The gun slipped from his fingers and clattered to the ground like an afterthought, like the threat of death wasn’t even registering anymore because the war that had just been dropped into his ribs wasn’t a bullet, ...