Signs of Life

"What? You mean Cody actually did that to you?" Anger etched across Piper’s face as she processed the betrayal Camilla had just suffered. Piper’s hands balled into tight fists at her sides, her fingernails biting into her palms. She stared down at her friend, refusing to accept the words hanging in the air.

Camilla sat on the edge of the mattress, the springs groaning beneath her weight. She stared at the scuffed floorboards, tracing the wood grain with her eyes. She confirmed the breakup with a slow, heavy nod. "Yes. He ended it. He just walked away."

Piper let out a sharp breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "I am going to kill him. I swear, Cami, I will find him and make him pay for this."

"Don't," Camilla whispered, her throat tight. "It doesn't matter anymore. But Piper... that was only the beginning of my crazy Valentine's night."

Piper dropped her hands and moved closer. She sank onto the bed beside Camilla, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I am so sorry, Cami. This is partly my fault. I kept pushing you toward that jerk. I encouraged the relationship every single day because I thought he was a decent guy. I thought he would give you a stable future, a life without worrying about rent or groceries. Please forgive me for pushing you into his arms."

Camilla shook her head. She reached out and grasped Piper’s wrist, pulling her arm away gently. "Do not blame yourself for this. I made my own choices. I was the one pushing things forward with Cody. I ignored the signs. Forget about him. He is in the past now. Let me tell you what else happened last night."

Camilla took a shaky breath. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the judgment she knew was coming. "After Cody dumped me, I felt like the ground had opened up and swallowed me. I decided to go to our usual club downtown. I just wanted to drown the pain."

Piper stayed quiet, giving her the space to speak.

"I sat at the bar," Camilla continued, her voice trembling. "I met this handsome stranger. He sat right next to me and ordered a drink. We started talking, and he became my drinking partner for the night. I downed multiple bottles of alcohol, trying to forget the humiliation of the breakup."

She paused, her throat going dry. She swallowed hard, forcing the rest of the confession out. "We left the club together. We went to a hotel, and we had sex. We stripped off our clothes, got in bed, and fucked. I had no idea what I was doing. The alcohol took over my mind."

Guilt crept into Camilla's voice, thick and choking. She kept her gaze glued to the floor. "When I woke up this morning, the sun was shining through the blinds. I reached across the mattress, but the sheets on the other side were ice cold. I sat up, and I realized I was naked. My clothes were scattered all over the hotel floor. I called out, thinking he might be in the bathroom, but there was no answer. I was alone in the bed. The stranger vanished. He packed his things, left the hotel room, and disappeared without leaving a note, a number, or a single word."

Piper sat up abruptly, the mattress bouncing. Horror washed over her features, replacing the anger she had felt moments ago. "You had a one-night stand with a stranger?"

Camilla hugged her knees to her chest. The shame burned the back of her neck. "I know. It was stupid."

"Cami," Piper demanded, her voice rising in panic. She grabbed Camilla by the shoulders, forcing her to look up. "Did he use a condom? Did he put protection on his penis before you had sex? Tell me he wore a condom."

Camilla remained silent. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force the memories through the fog of alcohol. The vodka had blurred everything. She could remember the heat of the encounter, the weight of the man pressing her into the mattress, but the details of a wrapper or latex were gone. She searched her memory for the sound of tearing foil or the snap of rubber, but nothing came to mind.

"I don't know," she whispered, the truth tasting bitter on her tongue. "I was too drunk. I can't remember if he wrapped it."

Piper groaned. She let go of Camilla’s shoulders and buried her face in her palms. She rubbed her temples, trying to ward off an impending headache. She dropped her hands and glared at Camilla. "How could you be so careless? We live in a massive city full of sexual predators, Cami! You fell right into the trap of one. Do you know how dangerous it is to follow a strange man to a hotel room? You could have been robbed, or assaulted, or worse. You do not know his name. You do not know his background. He could have transmitted a disease to you!"

"I know," Camilla muttered, fighting back tears. "I promise I will never drink like that again. I am done with guys. I just want to focus on my future."

Piper let out a harsh breath. Her protective instinct flared up, masking her disappointment. "Could you recognize this man if you saw him again?"

Camilla nodded. The image of the stranger cut through the hangover. "Yes. I remember his face. He had a comb-over haircut. He had striking grey eyes, really piercing. And he was tall. Broad shoulders."

"If I ever run into a tall guy with a comb-over and grey eyes," Piper vowed, her tone turning lethal, "I will teach him a brutal lesson. Nobody treats my best friend with such blatant disrespect. He used you like a hooker and ran away."

The tension in the cramped bedroom thickened, pressing down on Camilla’s chest. The air felt suffocating. She needed an escape from the interrogation. She stood up from the mattress, forcing a weak smile. "Forget him for now. Do we have any food? I am starving."

Piper sighed, the anger draining from her posture. She stood up and pointed toward the door. "I made pasta earlier. Go to the kitchen and serve yourself."

Camilla rushed out of the room, eager to put distance between herself and the heavy conversation.

Exactly three weeks passed without incident. The small dining table in their apartment groaned under the weight of their Friday night dinner. Piper had gone to their favorite diner down the street and bought two large plates piled high with greasy hamburgers and seasoned fries. The thick beef patties were smothered in melted cheddar cheese, caramelized onions, and dripping with special sauce. The smell of the fried meat and toasted sesame buns filled the narrow room, making their mouths water.

Camilla took a massive bite of her burger. The warm grease coated her tongue, and for a moment, the savory taste distracted her from the mess her life had become.

Piper grabbed a fry, dipped it in a pool of ketchup, and waved it in the air as she spoke. She was recounting a story about a coworker, trying to lift Camilla out of her recent emotional slump. "So, my coworker leans against this luxury car in the company parking lot," Piper said, fighting a massive grin. "He starts bragging to these two girls passing by, acting like he owns the place. He leans against the hood, crossing his arms, and tells them he just bought it with his year-end bonus. He was feeding them this huge lie about how much money he makes in the sales department."

Camilla kept chewing slowly as she listened.

"The girls were actually buying it," Piper continued, laughing around her food. "They were giggling and touching his arm. Then, the glass doors of the office building slide open, and the actual boss walks out. The guy who really owns the car."

Camilla raised an eyebrow. "What did the boss do?"

"The boss doesn't even say a single word. He doesn't yell. He doesn't ask what is going on," Piper said, slapping the table for emphasis. "He just walks right up to the guy, winds up his arm, and slaps him directly in the face for touching his expensive car! The smack was so loud it echoed across the whole parking lot. The girls screamed and ran away, and my coworker just stood there holding his cheek, stunned silent."

Camilla threw her head back and laughed. The sound bounced off the walls of the tiny apartment, genuine and loud. It was the first time she had laughed in weeks. "You should have had mercy on the poor man, Piper! That sounds humiliating. He was just trying to impress someone."

"He deserved it," Piper chuckled, taking a massive bite of her own burger. "Don't brag about things you don't own."

Camilla reached for her glass of water, a smile still lingering on her lips.

Without warning, her stomach lurched. A wave of intense nausea hit the back of her throat, thick and acidic. She slammed her hand over her mouth. The laughter died instantly, replaced by a cold sweat breaking out across her forehead.

She shoved her wooden chair back. It tipped over, crashing against the floorboards with a loud bang. Camilla bolted straight for the bathroom, her hands flying to her stomach.

She dropped to her knees in front of the toilet bowl, gripping the porcelain edges with white knuckles. She heaved, her chest contracting as she fought the sickness. Bile burned her throat. She coughed, spitting into the water below.

Moments later, she dragged herself back to the dining area. Her face was pale and sour, the remaining color drained from her cheeks. She picked up the fallen chair, set it upright, and sank into the seat.

"Are you okay?" Piper asked, lowering her food to the plate. Her amusement had vanished.

"I just feel strange," Camilla muttered. She rested her elbows on the table and rubbed her temples. "Must be something I ate earlier today."

She reached for her glass of water again, leaning forward. The second she inhaled, the heavy, greasy scent of the half-eaten hamburger hit her nose. The smell of the fried meat patty, mixed with the sharp tang of onions, churned her stomach with a sudden force. The room spun.

She shoved the table away, ignoring Piper's shout of surprise. She sprinted frantically down the short hallway, her bare feet slapping against the wood, and fell back to her knees in front of the toilet. This time, there was no holding it back. She vomited.

Piper followed close behind, abandoning her dinner. Worry clouded her features as she stood in the bathroom doorway. She watched Camilla gasp for air over the bowl. Camilla’s shoulders shook with every heave.

Piper grabbed a towel from the rack, wet it under the sink faucet, and knelt beside her friend. She pressed the cool cloth to the back of Camilla’s neck. "Take a deep breath, Cami. Slow down."

Camilla reached up with a trembling hand and flushed the toilet. She slumped against the cool tile wall, pulling her knees to her chest. She wiped her mouth with a piece of toilet paper, her chest heaving as she fought for oxygen.

"I have been feeling nauseated for two straight days," Camilla admitted, her voice weak and raspy. She let her head fall back against the tiles. "And the physical fatigue is dragging me down. I can barely keep my eyes open at work. My legs feel like lead."

Piper stood up and leaned against the doorframe. Her eyes narrowed in sharp medical scrutiny. She scanned Camilla from head to toe, piecing the symptoms together in her mind. The nausea. The sudden aversion to food. The extreme exhaustion.

"Are your breasts swollen?" Piper asked.

Camilla let out a breathless laugh. The question sounded absurd, coming out of nowhere. "What? No. Why would you ask that? I am not going through puberty again, Piper."

Piper did not smile. Her face remained deadly solemn. She crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to let the joke land. Her gaze bored into Camilla. "Answer the question, Cami. Have you seen your menstrual period this month?"

The remaining humor evaporated from the room. Camilla’s heart skipped a beat. She stared up at Piper, her mind racing to calculate the dates. The days had blended together since Valentine's night.

"No," she stuttered, her voice dropping to a whisper. She scrambled for a defensive excuse. "But the month hasn't ended yet. I am just a little late. Stress can delay it. You know I have been stressed about losing Cody and finding a new job."

Piper stepped closer, leaving the doorway. She towered over her friend, visually examining her pale, shivering state on the bathroom floor. Piper gasped, the realization hitting her like a physical blow. "Oh my god, Cami. You are pregnant!"

"No!" Camilla shook her head, rejecting the idea. She pushed herself off the floor, desperate to brush the terrifying reality away. "I am not pregnant. Do not say that. It is just a sudden cold. Or a stomach flu. There is a bug going around the office right now. That is all it is."

Piper refused to accept the excuses. She reached out and grabbed Camilla’s arms, holding her steady. "We are not guessing, Cami. We are going straight to the hospital for a professional medical checkup tomorrow morning. We need to know the truth before this goes any further."

"I don't need a hospital," Camilla argued, her voice rising in panic. She tried to pull her arms away, but Piper held firm.

"Tomorrow morning," Piper repeated. "No excuses. I will call a cab at eight."

Camilla pinched the bridge of her nose. The fight drained out of her body, leaving her hollow. She reluctantly nodded her agreement. "Fine. We will go."

Piper let go of her arms, offering a small, reassuring nod before turning around and walking out of the bathroom to clean up the ruined dinner.

Camilla stood alone under the harsh fluorescent light of the bathroom mirror. Fear gnawed at her heart, wrapping icy fingers around her chest. She stared at her own pale reflection, noting the dark circles under her eyes.

She hated hospitals. Every time she walked through those sliding glass doors, tragedy followed. She remembered sitting in the stiff plastic chairs of the waiting room years ago, her legs swinging because they couldn't reach the floor, waiting for the doctor to walk out with a grim expression. The sterile smell of the wards, the constant beep of the heart monitors, the squeak of rubber shoes on linoleum floors—it only brought back the tragic news of her parents' deaths. The hospital was a place of profound loss. It was where her family had been torn apart. It was where her life had fallen apart the first time.

The thought of returning to that sterile environment made her stomach churn all over again. She rested her hands flat against the cold countertop, her knuckles turning white. A terrifying, inescapable thought consumed her mind, drowning out the sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen. She closed her eyes, but the thought refused to leave.

What if Piper's suspicions are correct?