Virtue In Vices: Hacked Affections

03-Discovered Check

Three weeks ago, waking up in an unfamiliar room with the disorienting blur of the night's decisions crashing down around me, I nearly lost my mind. The sheets felt cold and unwelcoming as dawn broke through thin curtains, illuminating the emptiness where the stranger should have been. My heart hammered as panic set in-had I been so reckless?

Today, I find myself sitting on the cold tiled floor of my bathroom, the early morning light seeping through the window, offering a false sense of calm that sharply contrasts the storm brewing within me. The serenity of the morning feels like a cruel joke. Fragments of laughter and lighthearted conversations drift up from the street below my hotel room, mocking me with their joy.

I feel dizzy, clutching the positive pregnancy test in my hands. My fingers tremble as they hover over the unmistakable positive sign, half-wishing it would disappear when I move my hand away. My mind races with the implications of what I had done. This can't be happening... A myriad of emotions course through me-fear, confusion, and despite it all, a protective instinct surges alongside a reluctant flicker of excitement. This isn't just a complication; it is a complete disaster. A life is growing inside me, and I don't even know who the father is-a tiny, innocent life that knows nothing of its mother's dangerous existence. My hand shakes as it drifts to my stomach, a protective gesture that feels instinctive. In that moment, everything suddenly changes. For the first time in a long while, I saw a future that went beyond my thirst for revenge against Gusev. My hatred felt less consuming. I had a new priority that overshadowed everything else, something-or someone-to live for that was purely my own.

My eyes sting with tears, and I feel them flowing down my cheeks like a river, the sound of my sobs echoing off the hard surfaces of the small bathroom as I bury my face in my hands crying. Perhaps it was relief or the sudden realization that I have nowhere to go that stimulated the outburst. Either way, I can't stop it.

When the tears dry out, I feel a wave of nausea and crawl to the toilet, my hands gripping the cold porcelain for support as I empty what little I had for breakfast. "I am OK," I whisper to myself, but it sounds more like a question or a plea. I lift myself up from the floor, my palms pressing against the cool sink for support, and move to wash my hands and rinse my mouth. I splash some water over my face, and a distant memory resurfaces in my mind. A beautiful woman, eyes warm and her muffled laughter, I don't remember what it sounded like anymore. My mother. But I don't deserve to feel guilt; when I turned my back on Gusev, I also turned my back on my family, not caring what happens to them. "You didn't turn your back on them, you are doing this for them. You will find them," a voice in my head whispers the lies I've programmed it to say from the moment I left. And I force myself to believe it. I shake my head and sigh. I need some fresh air. And a new pregnancy test, this one could be wrong, and the other three could be wrong also. "Yeah," I agree with myself and almost run out of the bathroom; it felt suffocating.

I throw on a beige sweater over my tank top, switch my shorts for jeans, and wrap a scarf around my neck, using it to cover my face. I stash a knife in my pocket and pepper spray; caution never killed anyone.

As I step out into the street, the cold air washes over me. I walk quietly, brushing past a few strangers conversing on their phones and rushing to catch the final bus. The store is not very far, so I take my time walking while assessing the situation. Despite the denial I am feeling, there is a string of hope that I am, in fact, pregnant, that this is my salvation.

Reaching the pharmacy, I make a beeline for the aisle with the tests, quickly grabbing another box-just to be sure. The normalcy of the world around me clashes with the turmoil inside me. Clutching the new test, I step once again into the crisp morning air, taking deep breaths as I start back towards my hotel and delibrating on which country to flee to. I clutch the scarf tighter around my neck, the fabric muffling the rapid breaths that betray my anxiety.