Florence found

  Florence found her hand lay on her stomach absentmindedly whenever she was worried. Which was a lot, naturally, but that would only make things worse. It meant her lover was sure to find things out sooner, and she wasn't ready for that yet. She wasn't ready for that fight. She wasn't ready for that shrill and laughing voice to turn to venom when it spoke its words, or her bright eyes to be hot pokers on her skin, and on the unborn child held within. There would be no excuses, no explanations, no circumstances in her eyes. This was sin, and she would never take that child as her kin.
  Florence always pictured her lover looking up, with either a heart-warming smile or a frown of jealous anger. These were two faces of the same coin; when one was showing, you could never forget the other dwelt somewhere within. They were both common sights, and like a coin, sometimes it was a toss-up which face would come down on her in any given situation.
  But not this time. This time, Florence knew for sure what was waiting for her, but knowing didn't make it easier. Her bump was getting bigger, and the more she held her hand there, the more her lover was bound to notice it. Then would come questions. Who, what, when, where, why, they would all come so fast, and there would be no easy answers, either. Everybody's feelings would be hurt, and Florence would eventually give in to either kill the child or raise it on her own. There was only room for one child in her life, it seemed.
  She pulled out a coin. It was a toss-up after all.