Fifteen.

Isabella bent down to pick an empty can from the floor and let out an agonized sound. Her waist felt on fire and she tapped her fingers on her thighs to endure the pain. Once the pain subsided, she rose up and rested her hands on her big tommy.

"Are you okay?" An older woman's voice called from the doorway.

"Yes, mum," Isabella called back.

After she and Seth had talked about who keeps the baby or not, she had fled to San Francisco to stay with her mother. Of course, her mother being her mother had screamed at her and demanded to know who the father of the baby was. Lost about how to explain, Isabella had evaded the question with her tears and her mother had let it go. Ever since then, the older woman hasn't asked again.

"Are you sure, honey?" Her mother asked again.

She appeared at the doorway, concerned radiating all over her eyes. Isabella stared into her mother's brown eyes which were very identical to hers and smiled. Even more than the eye color, Isabella shared almost the same