Masquerade Hypnosis -before I Knew It- I-m Preg... -

Or when.

I had no memory of any book.

I tore off the mask. My pupils were blown wide, and in the irises—just for a flicker—I saw the shape of a spiral, turning slowly.

Both?

You agreed to this. In the trance, you said yes. You said, “I want to know what it feels like to carry life.” You signed the velvet book with a quill made of your own hair.

Not words, exactly. More like the shape of words pressed against the inside of my skull. Let go. Step into the dance. You are exactly where you need to be.

Before I knew it, I was standing in front of a cheval mirror in a gown I didn’t remember picking out. Masquerade Hypnosis -Before I knew it- I-m Preg...

“Coming, darling,” I heard myself say. And I meant it.

The last thing I remember before the door opened was the whisper’s final gift: a single memory surfacing from the trance. Myself, kneeling on a floor of rose petals and pocket watches, lifting a silver chalice to my lips, and whispering, “I consent. I consent. I consent.”

I just didn’t know to whom.

I looked down. The gown’s embroidery had changed. Where before there had been a single star over my womb, now there were two. And they were pulsing faintly, in time with a flutter I felt deep inside.

The whisper came again, closer this time, warm breath against my ear even though no one stood behind me.

“Don’t panic,” I told my reflection. The woman in the mirror smiled back a beat too late. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, dreamy, utterly at peace. That wasn’t me. I don’t smile. Or when