“Slow down, sweetie. You’ll make yourself sick.”
Obediently, Twitch set down the bowl, plucked out a morsel of beef, and popped it in her mouth.
“Thank you, Maggie.”
“I made ginger snaps too. They’ll help settle your stomach.”
With her belly happily full, Twitch felt her eyes grow heavy. She scooted down on the couch and rested her head on the throw pillow. Maggie stood and took the empty bowl into the kitchen. Twitch heard the water running in the sink. Maggie returned with a plate of cookies and set them on the coffee table.
“You know, sometimes when I’m anxious or uneasy, it’s not because of something out there.” Maggie pointed to the window. “It’s because of something in here.” She tapped her temple. “Get some rest.”
Maggie’s words bounced around in Twitch’s head long after she had left. She needed to tell Finn about the baby. Maybe that would alleviate this crazy paranoia.
Twitch knew he wasn’t coming back, knew she may never see Finn again. And maybe she could have been okay with that. Perhaps she could have cut that fragile tether that connected them. Had he not shown that glimmer of his former self, had he not created a new life inside of her.
Finn thought death and destruction followed in his path. Twitch rested a hand on her flat belly. Not this time.
Movement out the window caught her eye.
She sat up and looked out to her side yard through one of the windows flanking the fireplace. Mrs. Critchfield’s bedroom light cast a soft glow on her small strip of yard and the hedge that separated their houses. A bare-limbed elm was silhouetted in the dusk, a gnarled witch’s hand reaching out from the night.
Her neighbor’s light went out, and Twitch shivered. There was nothing out there. Instinctively she reached for the one thing that always seemed to comfort her. Resting her laptop on her stomach, she opened the tracking app and ate one of Maggie’s ginger snaps. Turning her attention to the tiny green dot, she watched the reassuring blink until she grew sleepy.