Masquerade Hypnosis -before I: Knew It- I-m Preg...

But my hand—the one not pressed to my belly—was smudged with dried ink. Indigo. The same color as the constellations on my gown.

Before I could scream, the spiral in my eyes turned once more. My knees went soft. My fear dissolved like sugar in warm milk. The woman in the mirror finally smiled with my face—not delayed, not dreamy, but truly mine.

Or when.

I just didn’t know to whom.

The silk was deep midnight blue, embroidered with constellations that seemed to shift when I blinked. My mask was a delicate thing of silver lace and tiny, faceted obsidians that caught the candlelight of the masquerade hall behind me. I didn’t recall putting it on, either. In fact, the last clear memory I had was standing in the coat-check line, holding a champagne flute I hadn’t been old enough to drink from. Masquerade Hypnosis -Before I knew it- I-m Preg...

You agreed to this. In the trance, you said yes. You said, “I want to know what it feels like to carry life.” You signed the velvet book with a quill made of your own hair.

“Coming, darling,” I heard myself say. And I meant it. But my hand—the one not pressed to my

Then, a whisper.