Maeve's POV
The plate crashed to the floor, breaking into a dozen pieces. I froze as every eye in the diner turned to me.
"Sorry!" I called out, my face burning with embarrassment. I knelt down to pick up the broken pieces, then felt a weird flutter in my belly. My hand flew to the small bump that was now clearly visible under my waitress apron.
"Leave it, honey," said Martha, the diner owner, rushing over with a broom. "You shouldn't be bending down in your condition."
"I'm only four months along," I argued, but stood up anyway. The baby moved again, stronger this time. Like tiny butterfly wings inside me.
"Go take your break," Martha insisted, shooing me toward the back door. "You look pale as a ghost."
I didn't argue. The dreams had kept me up most of the night again. The same ones that had been bothering me for weeks now.
