Page 12 of Wired Fear

Bile rushed up her throat suddenly, and Sophie stood up. “Where’s the bathroom again?”

Dr. Wilson pointed mutely to a small side door. Sophie ran in and slammed the door, bending over to retch into the pristine bowl.

When she was empty and had rinsed her mouth repeatedly, she glared at her wan reflection in the mirror over the sink.“You’re a terrible person,”whispered that interior voice.“A selfish coward. You should feel sick.”

A tap at the door. “Sophie, are you okay?”

“I’ll be right out.” Sophie turned on the fan. She splashed water on her face and used damp hands to scrunch her disordered curls back into shape. She’d dressed in a fresh Security Solutions “uniform” and needed to go into the office after this, but her knees felt wobbly and she was lightheaded. She opened the door to look at Dr. Wilson. “This trauma stuff is unpleasant.”

She and Dr. Wilson resumed their places. Dr. Wilson cleared her throat. “Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”

Sophie leaned back abruptly to get the support of the couch in remaining upright. “No. I mean…” She and Jake had been using condoms, but there was always a chance something had gone wrong. And that time with Alika?They hadn’t used anything!But it was just one time almost two months ago… Sophie covered her mouth with a hand, her eyes going wide. “No, surely not.”

“Well, I was reviewing your physical symptoms while you were in the bathroom, and while they’re consistent with PTSD, they’re also consistent with pregnancy. When was your last period?”

“I don’t know.” Sophie’s mind had gone completely blank. White noise filled her ears.

Dr. Wilson’s gaze was level. “I can’t recommend any medications for your depression until you rule out pregnancy. You’re a young, healthy woman in her prime who’s sexually active. This is something you need to tackle head-on. Take a test immediately. And if you’re not pregnant, get on some birth control right away.”

“I’m just upset. Traumatized. From everything.” Sophie’s lips felt numb. “I can’t be pregnant. No.”

“You have all the working parts. Just because you’ve got issues with your mother and you’ve never thought of yourself in this category doesn’t mean it doesn’t apply to you,” Dr. Wilson said crisply.

“There’s more to it than that.” Sophie looked down at her clenched hands. “But I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

“Not stupid. Distracted,” Dr. Wilson said. “You must have thought about children.”

“I love children. But I never wanted to have them myself. Because Assan tried to get me pregnant. Over and over.” Sophie felt sick again. She closed her eyes, breathing through it.Another bit of nightmare from her past she hadn’t let herself remember. “Assan wouldn’t let me use birth control. I would sneak and buy contraceptives when I could get out from the apartment, but eventually gave that up when he caught me and beat me for it. Five years of being raped and used, and I never conceived.” She shook her head. “I just eventually assumed I couldn’t get pregnant. It should have occurred to me thathewas the problem.”

“And thank God you didn’t, or think how hard it would have been to escape,” Dr. Wilson said. “Children are one of the many reasons women stay with an abuser. They’re used as bargaining chips to get the woman to comply and keep her in the relationship.”

Sophie nodded. “I burned incense in front of Quan Yin at our apartment, telling Assan I was praying to get pregnant…when the opposite was true. Even though he’d beat me when I got my period, I never stopped praying. And then one day I just felt my womb had closed. It would not betray me and open to him.” She looked down to see her hands folded over her abdomen. “And then I just…forgot about it. Strange, I know.”

“Dear girl. The mind does many strange things when trying to survive a terrible situation.” Dr. Wilson glanced at the clock. “We are out of time. I hate to say goodbye with this kind of revelation, but you’d best go to the pharmacy right after this and get a test. Text me when you have the results.”

The women hugged, and Sophie made an appointment for the following week with a request to get in sooner if there were any cancellations.

Out on the walkway at Dr. Wilson’s little cottage office behind the University of Hawaii campus, standing beside torch ginger plantings in the overcast light of a Hilo day threatening rain, Sophie had to grab onto a nearby railing to stay upright as emotional overwhelm crashed in on her.

She might be pregnant.

Chapter Nine

The smell of bleach barely covered an unpleasant ripeness of old blood floating on the air of the cavernous, historic Chang warehouse in downtown Hilo. Terence Chang observed the scene he had set as he waited for the heads of the different Chang business departments to arrive for the gathering he’d called.

He’d laid down a huge square of heavy plastic on the concrete floor. He’d moved a long koa wood table, used for generations of Chang gatherings, out of the conference room to this central spot. A white, waterproof tablecloth covered the expanse of wood and plastic folding chairs surrounded it. A floodlight beamed down on the table from above, casting the rest of the echoing space into shadow. A single water carafe was placed in the center of the table, and each seat was provided with a plastic glass, pen, and a copy of the agenda.

Terence had dressed for the occasion in a fitted charcoal gray suit with a narrow pinstripe and a red power tie. Wearing this level of formalwear, in Hawaii, sent a message. He walked to take his seat at the head of the table, and pressed his hands flat on the agenda and computer tablet to hide any tremble from his pounding pulse.

Terence’s cousin Emma, his closest friend in the family business, stood in the doorway of the warehouse. Twenty-six-year-old Emma had a maturity and composure beyond her years. She too, was dressed formally, wearing a floor-length muumuu in deep purple, the neckline trimmed in velvet. Multiple strands of pearls andkahelelanishells garlanded her slender throat. She met the different department heads at the door in a cheerful, firm manner, wanding them for weapons, collecting their firearms and phones, and directing them to the conference area.

“Looking so fly, cuz.” Ikaika, a cousin in charge of one of the meth factories and Akane’s surviving brother, approached Terence and took a seat next to him.

“Very Chicago gangster,” Elektra, in charge of meth distribution, elaborated. “You always like to dress the part, Terence. I take it this means you’re making a move on Byron’s chair?”

Terence inclined his head, unsmiling, his only answer as the various department heads arrived, each of them assessing the space and members present. Chatter was overloud, a reverberation of nervousness echoing in the vast space.

When all the chairs were filled, Emma exited and shut the door. Terence hoped he was the only one who heard the clunk of a heavy lock on the outside.

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