Icy was quite so far from fine in fact that she found herself slumping to the floor. The weight of everything that happened, everything that was to come, finally setting in--taking its physical toll. Every little thing that Icy had suppressed spilled over; all the pressures, all the insecurities, all the questions. "How can I be a mother?" "Will this kid even like me?" "How will I tell the kid about its father?" "How will everyone else treat me?"
"Why?"
And Icy cried. Not just a few tears. Not just short and simple ten một phút fit. It was an all out bawl; choked sobs, shaking body, uneven breaths....
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