"It is, and it says he's not ready yet. But it won't be long. Your cervix is soft. Your body's getting ready to deliver."

"But I was totally due in January and here it is February." She rubbed her cold hands together. "Something's wrong. You can tell me."

"Ten months is unusual, yes, but nothing's wrong."

"Then why won't you ever let me see the ultrasounds?"

He did the scans himself instead of his tech, and never allowed anyone else in the room except Mr. Osala, her self-appointed guardian. The doctor had started giving her appointments on Mondays and Thursdays. Why? He had no office hours and no staff at all those days. Was that what he wanted? And during the ultrasounds, he always kept the monitor screen turned away from her. For some reason, he never seemed to tire of looking at her baby.

"You wouldn't understand what you were seeing."

She resented that. She might be only eighteen-turning nineteen next month-but she was no dummy. She'd been accepted to Colgate and would be there right now if she hadn't screwed up her life.

"You could point things out to me."

"The baby is fine. You feel him moving, don't you?"

"Like crazy."

Some days she felt like she had a soccer camp inside her.

"Well then, I've told you he's a boy and you know he's healthy. What more do you need?"

"I need to see him."

"I'm not sure I understand your eagerness to see a baby you're giving up for adoption upon delivery. A baby you tried to abort, if I remember correctly."

She had nothing to say to that. She'd totally changed her mind about the abortion, but she was so not ready to raise a child-especially this child, considering who the father was. Someone else would give him a good home and raise him better than she ever could. No way she was ready for motherhood.

He pulled out an old-fashioned pocket watch and popped the lid.

"Your friend, Mister Osala, should be calling soon."