Vermillion, red.

Mrs. Moore?

I stared at the tiny, glass cylinder-shaped object as I tightly clasped it between all ten of my fingertips. "Could you go any slower?! Jesus!" Anxiously, I gawked, waiting for an answer from the lifeless trinket. "I'm going as fast as I can. Young people these days have no patience!" My eyes widened, remembering this was a public restroom.

"Oh, I wasn't-" My words halted when the pregnancy test caught my attention. There was a loud knock on the stall but ignoring it was the only option right now. Extreme concentration in my brain turned on, making me continue to stare at the miniature brown ring inside the clear tube. "Excuse me? You've been in there for two hours. This womans' kid needs to go.", I heard the worker say from the other side of the stall. The knocking continued while a grin appeared on my face.

"Miss, please come out. Or I'll have to bring in the manager, and he's a total creep." The worker said more to herself than to me.

"I'm pregnant.", I whispered.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm pregnant!"

"That test takes two hours! Why didn't you go home and do it there?", The lady whined, tapping on the door again.

My smile disappeared, considering her words. "I- was... in the heat of the moment!" I replied as my hands quickly unlocked the stall door. "

Finally! Jesus Chri-!", The tall woman covered her mouth before the last letters escaped her mouth. She said a quick prayer and shoved what looked like a child version of her into the stall. The worker shrugged her shoulders and pulled the door open.

"At least I don't have to call that pervert over here. I don't need any of his attention on me. " She muttered before walking out. "What? No congratulations?" I sarcastically asked the room, nothing but silence and the flushing of the toilets. I shrugged my shoulders and quickly walked to the somewhat clean sinks.

I hurriedly washed my hands and yanked open the red door, leaving a puddle of a wet palm print on the silver door handle.

My black heels clicked on the black and white-tiled floor as I rushed past the red cushioned booths and impatient customers expecting their meals. Pushing open the glass doors let the cold breeze hit my face, quickly getting rid of its warmth.

My eyes started searching throughout the streets, looking for my objective. "A-ha!", I said running towards the windowed cubicle. Swiftly, I walked into the slightly opened door of the pay-phone and smiled. "Won't be able to do that in a few months." I inserted a quarter and picked up the rusted light green phone.

Carefully punching in the numbers on the silver tarnished dial, making sure not to get them wrong. I only had two quarters, after all. "456-784-320, was that his work number or his boss's number?" I questioned myself, softly thumping my head with the phone. I shrugged the thought away, knowing I would be able to reach him either way.

"Los Angeles Police Department, this is Detective Eric Moore speaking." I heard the groggy voice of my husband pour into my ear. I smirked, "I'm pregnant." I spoke into the phone, pausing for his response. There was a heavy crash, followed by an obscene amount of profanities. "Detective Moore, are you okay?" I laughed, hearing the clicking sounds of him picking up the phone.

"Oh me? I'm excellent. Wonderful actually.", He chuckled cooly.

"How are you, Mrs. Moore?"

"Mrs. Moore?"

I cracked open my eyes and returned to the present. A judge stared directly at me, showing his displeasure to a vast extent. "Yes, sorry, your honor. What was the question?"

The people seated behind my lawyer and I scoffed while judge Gibson shook his head and sighed. They must have such interest in me, a fascination for an animal in four walls.

"I asked how does the defendant plead, guilty or not guilty?" He repeated himself.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the pictures displayed on the book cover, this chapter, or any future chapters.

All credit goes to their rightful owners.