Desiree didn’t notice the stares at first.

She walked briskly through the main hallway, clutching her books to her chest, trying to shake off the fatigue that had become her constant companion these days. Maybe it was the pregnancy, or maybe it was the sleepless night spent studying. Either way, she didn’t have the energy to care about anything else, certainly not the strange glances people were throwing her way.

She told herself it was the shirt.

It had to be the shirt.

She hadn’t ...