God, if I have to see one more post about how blessed she feels to be taking this miraculous journey in creating life, I’m gonna shoot myself. 

​Diana Lucha rested her elbows on the granite-top island in the center of her kitchen and half-heartedly scrolled through Facebook. Her thumb swiped across the fingerprint-coated screen in a feeble attempt to clean it. A picture of her next-door neighbor, Lucinda Hansen glared up at her, under the residue from Diana’s son’s sticky fingers.

​Lucinda’s perfectly curled blonde hair cascaded over her delicate shoulders. Her hands rested softly on her belly, and her porcelain skin was stretched taut across the faint hint of a baby bump. Her head was tilted back, captured mid dainty laugh. 

​Nobody actually looks that beautiful when they laugh.  

​“So excited to bring new life into the world. Can’t wait to meet you baby bean. #lifeisbeautiful #ourlittlemiracle.”

​The caption was enough to make Diana’s stomach churn. Good thing her morning sickness had subsided, or she might have vomited into the kitchen sink on the pile of unwashed dishes from the night before.

​She looked down at the roundness of her own large baby bump. Her swollen feet ached and dark bags from another night of restlessness rimmed her hazel eyes. She rubbed her belly and remembered a time before she gave her body over to children.

​At the start of Diana’s first pregnancy, she was intoxicated with a fabricated concept of a perfect road to motherhood. 

​She read all the parenting books, documented each week with perfectly posed pictures for social media, took care to only eat organic, non-GMO foods, did prenatal yoga, and carefully planned every aspect of her life around the growth of her child. 

 Then, morning sickness set in. And the constant need to pee. And the uncontrollable gas. And her weird sudden craving for canned green beans and inability to even look at chicken without feeling queasy. 

​But, when she held Rafi—her beautiful baby boy with his dad’s striking blue eyes—in her arms for the first time, everything felt right in the world. The sweet, calming smell of the top of his newborn head erased the nine months of inconvenient doctor’s visits and back aches. 

​Rafi was uniquely hers, and nothing would change that. 

​Suddenly, the stovetop hissed behind her. Foamy water poured over the edge of the pot and sizzled against the hot burner. 

Diana turned and knocked a water glass off the edge of the counter with her elbow. The glass shattered. Shards floated in a puddle of water and spread across the polished wood.

​“Shit!” she yelled. 

​In the midst of her jealousy, Diana had forgotten about the mac and cheese she had started for Rafi’s dinner. She tiptoed around the mess to the stove and blew gently on the boiling water. It retreated and revealed little bunny-shaped noodles that danced around on rolling bubbles. 

​Something fluttered inside Diana’s stomach.

​“Oh, hello there.” Diana smiled at her baby’s light kicks. She caressed her bump with one hand and dipped a slotted spoon into the pot with the other. This little guy was a lot more active than Rafi had been. 

​She fished out two noodles and stuck them in her mouth. 

​Perfect. 

​Diana turned off the burner and lifted the pot. Even though her coordination wasn’t anything near what it used to be, she was determined to make her way back through the slippery mess. 

​Only, when she turned around, the puddle was gone. Instead, the water and shattered glass had formed a large bubble which now hovered over the sink. 

​What the hell?

​The pot wobbled and nearly fell out of her hand. She steadied it and rushed to the sink. 

​Without moving her gaze from the bubble, she dumped the pot’s contents into a white plastic strainer. Steam curled up and fogged the lenses of her thin-framed circular glasses. 

​A warm breeze blew through the cracked open window. The bubble undulated and threatened to burst. 

​What in God’s name is that? 

​“Mamí! Mamí!” Rafí’s high-pitched voice echoed through the hallway. The front door creaked closed gently behind him, and his little footsteps pattered toward Diana. 

​“I’m in the kitchen, mijo!” Diana called and placed the hot pot back on the stovetop. She turned to look back up at the bubble, but it was gone. The window swung all the way open on its rusty hinges.

​Diana stood on her tip toes, leaned over the sink, and looked outside for any sign of the mysterious bubble.

​Rafi rammed at full force into the back of her legs. Her knees buckled.

​“Ay!” She turned, grabbed Rafi’s face, and ruffled his hair. “Careful, mijo! Remember, Baby Brother is in Mommy’s tummy. You don’t want to hurt him.” 

​Rafi’s cheeks were bright red and his little ringlets stuck to his sweaty forehead. The old scabs on his chin and forearms were healing, but a new scrape had formed on his knobby knees. The blood was smeared across his lightly tanned skin. 

​Diana was used to cleaning up her rambunctious little boy. He was reckless. His poor understanding of the laws of physics got him in trouble more often than Diana would like. 

​“Look, Mamí!” Rafi said between heavy breaths. “I made a new best friend! See? See?”

​A little girl sheepishly emerged from the hallway. Her shiny blonde hair was pulled back into a tight braid that draped over her shoulder. A stray strand framed her pale, freckled face. 

​The little girl waved. She smiled gently and looked up at Diana through her wispy bangs that poked into her purplish eyes.

​“Her name is Flow,” Rafi said. “She loves Ninja Turtles just like me! And she already lost two teeth! And she can run almost as fast as me, but not as fast cuz I’m the fastest kid in my whole grade.”

 He beamed, proud that he had finally found somebody that could keep up with his rough form of play.

​“Oh, honey,” Diana said. She tucked a rogue curl behind her ear and crouched down to hold Rafi’s shoulders. “That’s wonderful, but you can’t bring friends into the house if they don’t have their mommy or daddy’s permission. I don’t want them to be worried about where she went or think that something happened to…”

​“But, Mamí!” Rafi interrupted. He squirmed out of Diana’s grasp and ran over to stand next to his new friend. He bounced excitedly from foot to foot. “She said she has to tell you something. Right, Flow? Something important!”

​“Oh, do you?” Diana said and raised her eyebrows. She stood and looked over the rims of her glasses.

 The little girl nodded meekly. 

​“Yes, ma’am.” Her voice was gentle and quiet and her words, were oddly eloquent for a seven-year-old. “There is somebody who requires…”

​“She knows where Mr. Alex is!” Rafi interrupted “She told me!”

​Diana’s breath caught in the back of her throat and her knees wobbled. She propped herself up on the counter so she wouldn’t fall into a pile of disbelief on the kitchen floor. 

​Alexander Guarda was the father of her unborn child. She hadn’t heard even a whisper of his name since she told him she was pregnant. That night, he had packed up what little belongings he had stored in the extra drawer in Diana’s bedside table and disappeared. 

​Diana found her voice. “Don’t be silly, mijo.” “Mr. Alex went away on super-secret, very important business. I don’t think your new friend…”

​Her words trailed off into memories of her first romantic fling since the death of her husband. Mike had died in a tragic car accident three years after Rafi was born. He was hit by a drunk driver on his way home from a graveyard shift at the restaurant. Mike was the love of her life. For years, she refused to even entertain the idea of dating again.

​“First, Alexander would like to extend his sincerest apologies for his extended leave of absence,” Flow said. “He has sent me here in search of you.” 

​There was that name again. The name of the man who had helped Diana when she tripped and dropped groceries in the middle of the parking lot. His smile was bright enough to melt ice cream off the cone. He had made her feel young and more alive that she had felt in years. 

​He had shattered her fragile heart into pieces and ruined her chances of ever trusting another with it.

​Diana adjusted her glasses. 

​Is this girl growing taller? Or is my pregnancy brain getting to me again?

​“My world is in danger, and only you, or rather, the life growing inside of you, can save us.” The little girl was anything but little —or a girl for that matter—anymore.

​Flow’s meek, childish features had subsided to an appearance of elegant, other-worldly beauty. She now stood roughly seven feet tall and looked down at Diana with wide, radiant purple eyes. Her hair cascaded out of the tight braid and formed a halo of dancing golden locks around her head, which sat on top of her long, delicate neck. A magnificent iridescent crystal sparkled in center of her forehead and two foxlike ears extended through her hair. 

​Diana grabbed Rafi by the back of his Ninja Turtle T-shirt and tugged him away from Flow.

​“I have come to escort you to Nevah, where you and your child will be protected until he is born,” Flow said. She extended her four arms toward Diana and beckoned for her to follow. “But we must move quickly. The Oscurians are cunning and will have realized my presence on Earth.”