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conceived. The ultrasound would be required regardless, and she wanted – needed – to see a healthily developing baby on the screen that loomed on the wall opposite the exam table.
    She did her best to relax as she reclined, balancing her heels on the table’s edge as the procedure began. The mild discomfort caused by the wand was quickly overshadowed by nerves as a sound filled the room – a heartbeat. It was faster than she’d expected, but then, hadn’t she read on the internet that fetal heartbeats were much quicker than adults’?
    Still, it sounded like a tiny construction crew was at work in her belly, and each beat drove home the reality of her condition a little further. With the noise of new life ringing in her ears, she watched the screen, straining to make sense of the black and white portrait the ultrasound had painted of her insides.
    “Two heartbeats,” the tech said. “And there are the two fetuses. See?”
    “Two?” The word leapt from Abby’s suddenly-dry mouth. “You mean…”
    “Twins. Do you see them?”
    Abby was still, dumbstruck for what felt like the millionth time since she’d read her positive pregnancy test. The tech pointed out two round little heads that dwarfed the bodies below and even tiny nubs that marked developing limbs.
    A small eternity seemed to pass, and by the time she could bring herself to speak, it felt like her heart was beating as quickly as the babies’. “I can’t believe I’m having twins,” she said, more to herself than the tech. “Does everything look okay?”
    “I’m not really supposed to say,” the tech replied, pursing her lips. “But yeah…” She broke into a smile and gave Abby the tiniest of winks, “everything looks normal to me.”
    She would’ve sighed in relief, but her lungs didn’t seem to be working properly. It was all she could do to breathe, to lie still while the tech concluded the exam by taking images of her ovaries.
    When the other woman left, Abby shed her fragile paper coverings and slid shaky limbs back into the clothing she’d left folded on a chair. The tech had given her a strip of black and white images, along with a due date – April 21. It was just past mid-September now, which made her about two and a half months pregnant. The tech had explained to her that the doctors started counting pregnancy at the first day of her last period, which meant that by the time conception occurred, a woman was already considered to be two weeks along.
    Tucking the black and white photos into her purse, she took a deep breath and reached for the door. She tried not to think of the night that had led to her current situation, but the memories were intense and offered a tempting distraction from the sense of shock that had settled over her in the exam room. Still, she had something much more pertinent to contemplate – the upcoming evening, and her date with Sam.
    He’d called her the night before and asked if she was available. She’d said yes, knowing that by the time they met, she’d already have answers from her doctor visit – answers and proof that she was pregnant and that her conception lined up with the night they’d spent together.
    As she was shown to another exam room by a nurse, nagging worry ate away at the little bit of confidence the ultrasound photos and official due date had given her. What if Sam wasn’t willing to accept that he was the father without proof – what if he thought that she hit up bars for one night stands all the time, that the father could just as well be someone she’d slept with the night before, or the next night?
    What if he demanded a paternity test, and what if he didn’t want anything to do with her or the babies in any case?
    Chewing her inner lip as she undressed and covered herself in paper again, she conjured up the image of him standing inside Hot Ink, holding his badge aloft. Discovering that he was a police officer had boosted her hopes that he’d be interested in being