The next dawn arrived without her having slept a wink.
Day broke over a milky, unpromising sky, and the light filtering through the curtains already seemed tired.
Catarina didn't move.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands folded in her lap, she stared at the floor without really seeing it.
Her mind still refused to put the pieces together.
But her body did not lie.
The nausea.
The dizziness.
That strange emptiness, accompanied by a beating under her skin, as if another breath was already trying to be born within her.
She got up slowly, took her coat, and went outside.
The morning cold took her breath away.
The world seemed frozen, suspended in an artificial peace.
The sound of her footsteps in the snow echoed like a countdown.
She walked for a long time, without really knowing where she was going.
Then, without thinking, she found herself in front of the pharmacy.
The window reflected her image: a woman she no longer recognized.
Her features were drawn, her eyes puffy, and there was a silence in her gaze, like a fear that was too old.
She went inside.
The bell tinkled faintly above the door.
"Hello," said the pharmacist with a polite smile.
Catarina nodded, searching for words.
"I need a test... well, a test for..."
Her voice trailed off.
The woman understood without her needing to say more.
She simply nodded and slipped the small box into a paper bag.
As she left, Catarina felt the wind whip her face.
She stood there on the sidewalk, the box clutched to her chest.
The world continued around her, the cars, the passersby, the conversations.
But everything seemed distant, unreal.
Back home, she placed the bag on the table.
It remained there for a long time, like a foreign presence.
She sat in front of it, unable to touch it.
An hour passed. Maybe two.
The ticking of the clock finally prompted her to get up.
She grabbed the bag and went to the bathroom.
Her fingers were shaking.
She read the instructions three times, without really understanding the words.
Then she did it.
And waited.
The seconds stretched out, slow, endless.
Every beat of her heart echoed in her head.
When she finally dared to look, the light of day had changed.
One line.
Then two.
Two clear lines.
Indisputable.
Her breath caught in her throat.
She took a step back and bumped into the wall behind her.
A sound escaped from her throat, not a scream, not a sob, just a sharp, abrupt gasp.
She sat down on the floor, the test in her hands.
Her gaze slid over it, without really seeing it.
Everything inside her was wavering.
It was no longer grief.
It was something else.
A primal fear. Absolute loneliness.
She thought of Sylus.
Of his voice.
Of his gaze.
Of the way he said her name as if it were a prayer.
Then she thought of Althea.
Of what she had just done to her.
About everything that would fall apart when the truth came out.
Her fingers clenched around the test.
She wanted to cry, scream, disappear.
But nothing came.
Nothing, except for that sentence, which echoed in her head like a condemnation:
"There are consequences we don't choose.
Only those we must bear."
The wind picked up outside, slamming the shutters.
And Catarina understood, silently, that her escape had come to an end.
Because from now on, she was no longer running away alone.