Some people swore that the house was haunted.

Billy and I knew the truth. There were ghosts in that house, but not the wispy kind that float.

The last night I’d spent in that house began joyfully. Billy said he’d gotten a promotion, that we’d never have to worry again. I knew he was not the fatherly type, but I was hoping tonight he’d be in an accepting mood. I’d made his favorite dinner, lit candles. I had news. Our cuddling on the sofa was interrupted by a knock.

The sound of a woman’s voice arguing with Billy drew me to the door.

“It’s your bastard, Billy, and you’re going to man up! It’s time you paid for what you’ve done!” Then having spied me, she spat, “He’ll knock you up and leave you on a corner!”

I ran to the bedroom, frantically packing whatever I could grab. Tears stung my eyes, but they paled in comparison to the sting of betrayal in my own womb.

“Myra, please. I’ll handle this. Don’t go.”

I had to, to protect our secret. Billy cried.

Nothing was ever the same again after that.