Chapter 15 - Pregnant Paris

Paris's POV

It had been a week since I had been forced to flee my home, leaving everything and everyone I loved behind. I had slept on the streets, like a refugee, surviving on scraps and the kindness of strangers. I missed my old life and my family with a longing that was like a physical ache in my chest. But I knew that if I went back, I would only put them in danger. It was better for everyone if they believed I was dead.

"Get out of my store!" the shop owner yelled, her eyes wide with fear. I could see myself reflected in the shop window - my clothes were dirty and tattered, my hair was unkempt, and my eyes were red and puffy from crying. I must have looked like a madwoman, or a thief, to the shop owner.

"Please," I begged, "I'm just looking for a job. I'm not a thief."

"You're a thief!" she shouted, picking up a stick and brandishing it in my direction. It was a familiar scene - I had been chased away from countless stores and businesses in the past week, all because of the way