Dodging waiters and dining chairs, I made a dash for the ladies room. Hurriedly I locked the door behind me, then turned to grip the toilet as I lost my breakfast into the bowl.
I flushed, gagged, then flushed again. As I washed my mouth and shaking hands at the sink, nausea faded into the background. I knew then I didn’t need to use the pregnancy kit tucked into my purse.
I raised my eyes to gaze in the bathroom mirror. I looked back at myself, pale and thin.
“You can do this” said the girl in the mirror.