To Save The Future0 (0)
IN PICS: SUMAIYA | CONTRIBUTED BY: LOVE BIRD
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Sumaiya looked radiant—seven months pregnant, glowing despite herself, surrounded by family and friends celebrating her baby shower. She couldn’t wait to be a mom, especially given what she knew of her miracle child.
“Look at you!” Neha, one of her college friends, squealed, running up to her and giving her a tight hug.
She placed a hand on Sumi’s swollen belly affectionately before winking at Sumi, “Irfan’s swimmers didn’t waste any time, huh?”
Laughter rippled through the living room. Sumi smiled, that practiced shy smile she’d perfected over the past months, and accepted another gift bag she didn’t need.
“Seriously,” another friend—Medha—leaned in conspiratorially. “Exactly how many times did you two do it on your wedding night? Because girl, one shot and boom. Pregnant.”
“It’s not how many times that counts Medha,” Neha said, mock slapping her friend on the arm, “it’s the quality. You know Sumi. What less than superhuman can you expect from her husband?”
More laughter. Sumi’s hand drifted to her belly, feeling the flutter-kick that had become constant in recent weeks.
Then Ruhi spoke up from across the room, that dangerous glint in her eye that Sumi recognized from a decade of friendship. “Remember when Sumi thought every guy with stamina was an alien?”
“Ruhi, shut up—”
“Hey Arif!” Ruhi called to her husband, who was dutifully manning the drinks table. “Remember I told you Sumi thought you were an alien back in college?”
Arif laughed, shaking his head. “Still one of the strangest compliments I’ve ever received.”
Sumi felt heat rise to her cheeks, but she met Ruhi’s gaze evenly. “Life’s funny, you know. Even though your Arif turned out to be a boring human.”
“Boring?” Ruhi’s eyebrows shot up. “He is anything but boring. Remember our college talks? He’s still the same.”
A Few Years Earlier
Ruhi was laying on the couch in the dorm room she and Sumi shared in college. She had returned this morning after spending the night with her boyfriend, Arif.
“How was it Ruhi?” Sumi had asked as soon as she had stepped in through the door, tossed her shoes aside and landed on the couch.
Ruhi’s eyes went wide. “It was incredible. He didn’t let me sleep a wink all night Sumi, I’m telling you, he’s superhuman. I could barely stand on my legs in the morning when he finally fell asleep. I am still sore down there and literally everywhere, girl. “
Sumi leaned forward, deadly serious. “Describe it. Everything. Dimensions, endurance, recovery time. Number of times. I want minute by minute details”
“Why are you like this?” Ruhi asked, shocked at her friend, “I don’t kiss and tell.”
“I need to know if he could be… you know.”
Ruhi finally broke, laughing so hard she had to set down her coffee. “An alien? Sumi, you need help.”
“Later. Right now, I need all the details.”
Ruhi wiped her eyes, then leaned in with theatrical conspiracy. “Okay. Fine. We were at his apartment—”
“Start from the beginning.”
“Stop interrupting okay. We were watching something, I don’t even remember what, and then he kissed me and…” Ruhi’s voice dropped lower, and despite herself, Sumi felt her breathing change. “His hands were everywhere. Like, he knew exactly where to touch. We didn’t even make it to the bedroom the first time. He bent me over the back of the couch and…”
Sumi’s pen was poised over her notebook—not that she was actually taking notes, but her hand needed something to do, “too fast, Ru… that’s not enough details.”
“He was thick, Sumi.” Ruhi pointed to the 4” pipe under their kitchen sink, “at least that wide and boy was it long.”
Ruhi held her hands apart at least a foot apart. “Like, I actually gasped when he pushed in. And the way he moved—Fuck. He’d go slow, so slow I was begging, and then he’d speed up and I’d lose my mind. I came twice before he even finished the first time.”
“Twice?”
“Twice. The second time he had me on my back on his coffee table, my legs over his shoulders, and his mouth just…” Ruhi made a gesture that was probably meant to be helpful but just made Sumi’s face burn hotter. “I think I screamed his name. Definitely screamed something.”
“And then?”
“And then he put it back inside me—don’t give me that look, I’m on the pill. Anyway, I don’t know how long it took but it felt like he was plowing me for years before he came. And I was like, okay, that was incredible, I’m going to need a nap. But Sumi…” Ruhi’s grin turned wicked.
“Ten minutes later, he’s hard again. Just ten minutes, can you believe it? We went to the bedroom and he made me ride him while he played with my tits, and I came again, and then he flipped me over and fucked me from behind until I was literally crying into his pillow by the time he came in me for a second time.”
Sumi realized her mouth was open. She closed it. “Wow. Ruhi. Twice?”
“That was just last night,” Ruhi said, “and then as many times this morning. Like I said, I am sore all over.”
“Do you think? Could he be—”
Ruhi burst out laughing again. “You are such a sucker. He was fine. Good, even. But I definitely exaggerated the superhuman part just to mess with you. Though he did do it twice – one last night and once this morning — so I think I’ll keep him.”
The disappointment was a physical weight in Sumi’s chest. “You’re never going to find what you’re looking for,” Ruhi said, gentler now. “It doesn’t exist.”
“Maybe,” Sumi said quietly. “But I’m not settling for ordinary.”
That night, alone in her dorm room, Sumi lay in the dark with a book lying open across her chest as she tried to gather her thoughts. She’d started with research—another deep dive into documented abduction cases, temporal anomalies, anything that might prove she wasn’t crazy for wanting what she wanted.
But research had given way to imagination—the kind you would expect from a hormonal college girl—and now her hand had slipped into her sleep shorts.
She closed her eyes and let the fantasy build. The figure was indistinct at first, shadow and suggestion, but she’d been refining this for months. Years, if she was honest.
He was tall, impossibly so, and when he moved it was with a grace that no human body could achieve. His hands—when she imagined them on her skin—were warm but not quite the right temperature, and they knew her body better than she knew it herself.
“Zoran,” she whispered to the empty room, because she’d named him years ago and the name had stuck, for reasons she couldn’t explain.
In her mind, Zoran pressed her down into her narrow dorm bed.
His mouth found hers and it was wrong in all the right ways—too much, too intense, like kissing lightning.
His hands mapped her body with scientific precision, finding every nerve cluster, every sensitive spot she hadn’t known existed, while his tongue devoured hers.
Her fingers worked faster, matching the rhythm of her fantasy as she peeled her t-shirt off with her free hand before squeezing a naked breast.
In her mind, Zoran entered her—thick and perfect and exactly what she needed—while his mouth sucked on her nipple.
She gasped aloud in her empty room when she pinched her nipple. Zoran was tireless, relentless, hitting depths and angles that physics shouldn’t allow.
She was close now, her hips lifting off the bed to meet Zoran.
He leaned down and whispered something in a language she didn’t understand, just as he exploded in her depths, pushing her over the edge.
Sumi came with a muffled cry, her free hand clamping over her mouth to keep from disturbing her neighbors. She rode the waves of it, drawing it out as long as she could, and when she finally came down she was breathless and flushed and achingly alone.
She opened her eyes to her empty dorm room. Just the book lying open next to her. Just her hand, still warm between her legs. Just a fantasy.
“Zoran,” she whispered to the ceiling. She couldn’t shake the certainty that somewhere, somehow, Zoran was real and waiting for her.
Two Years Ago
“—because the Fermi Paradox assumes we’d recognize intelligence when we encountered it. But what if intelligence at that scale is so fundamentally different that we’re looking right at it and calling it weather patterns or quantum fluctuations or—”
Sumi was riveted.
The lecture hall at the university was packed, standing room only, but she’d gotten here early enough to claim a seat in the third row.
Professor Irfan Qureshi stood at the front, shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows, pacing as he spoke with the kind of infectious energy that made even theoretical physics feel urgent.
“What if,” he continued, “we’re asking the wrong question entirely? Not ‘where is everybody’ but ‘where are we looking, and how would we know if we found them?'”
Someone raised a hand. “But surely we’d detect technological signatures—”
“Would we?” Irfan’s grin was quick and sharp.
Sumi found herself leaning forward without realizing it as Irfan countered every argument with counter logic.
This was it. This was what she’d been searching for—someone who asked the questions everyone else dismissed as fringe nonsense. Someone who believed.
After the lecture, she lingered while the crowd dispersed. Irfan was gathering his notes, and when he looked up and saw her, recognition flickered across his face.
“You used to sit in the back of Astrophysics 301,” he said. “Asking about the Fermi Paradox when everyone else wanted to talk about exoplanet detection.”
Sumi felt something warm bloom in her chest. “You remember that?”
“You were the only one asking real questions.”
The chemistry was immediate and undeniable—a pull that felt almost gravitational.
They went for coffee, then dinner, then back to his apartment to continue the conversation, and somewhere between debating the Drake Equation and whether consciousness could survive quantum decoherence, their lips met.
Three Months Later
The rhythmic creaking of the bed would have been what made you look towards the bed where they lay wrapped around each other, a couple of needy, sweaty bodies
His apartment, normally immaculately clean was a chaos of scattered books and discarded clothing, a trail from the front door to the bedroom that told its own story.
“Sumi,” he groaned.
He was laying on his back with her sitting on his face, bent forward, her head moving up and down between his legs.
He was thick and she couldn’t take all of him, but she worked what she could with lips and tongue while her hand stroked the rest.
His hips lifted involuntarily, seeking more, and she could feel him getting close—the tension in his thighs, the way his breathing changed.
“Oh Fuck!” he roared, grabbing her hips and pulling her into his mouth as his body started shaking violently.
His back arched and his hips spasmed once, twice, thrice as his roar turned into a satisfied groan and he collapsed on the bed spent.
To him, she looked like a fairy as she turned to face him, a naughty smile on her face as she licked his release off her lips.
“Yummy!” she said winking as she gathered whatever had spilled over with a finger and sucked it.
She yelped and giggled when he rolled her over on the bed. Her legs defied gravity pointing towards the ceiling as Irfan went to work between them.
She lost track of time. His mouth had been between her legs for what felt like hours, tongue working her clit with scientific precision while his fingers curved inside her.
She came hard, her thighs clamping around his head as she erupted, but he hadn’t stopped.
He had devoured her as if he had never tasted anything sweeter and kept working her through the aftershocks building toward another.
“Irfan,” she gasped, hands fisted in his hair. “I can’t—too much—”
“Once more,” he murmured into her sopping wet flesh. “Feed me once more.”
His fingers found that spot inside her that made her vision white out, and combined with the relentless attention on her clit, she shattered. This orgasm was deeper, longer, her whole body arching off the bed as she cried out his name.
He crawled up her body, kissing a trail from her hip to her breast to her mouth. She could taste herself on his lips and it made her moan into the kiss. When she reached down between them, she found him hard already and wrapped her hand around him.
She turned him on his back and crawled up his body, positioning herself over him. His hands gripped her hips as she sank down onto him, both of them groaning at the sensation.
He was already half-recovered, and as she started to move, rising and falling on him, she felt him harden fully inside her.
“God, you’re perfect,” he breathed, hands moving to her breasts.
“And you’re my Superman,” she said riding him with increasing urgency, chasing another orgasm.
When his thumb found her clit she came again—smaller than before but still intense, clenching around him.
The sensation pushed him over the edge and he thrust up hard, burying himself deep as he came.
They collapsed together in a tangle of limbs and sweat, both breathing hard. The afternoon sun slanted through the blinds, painting stripes across their cooling skin.
It was Irfan who broke the silence first. His hand traced lazy patterns on her hip. “So. I’ve been thinking.”
“Dangerous pastime.”
He laughed, then propped himself up on one elbow to look at her properly. “I love you.”
Sumi’s breath caught. “Irfan—”
“I know we’ve only been together just three months. I know this probably sounds insane. But Sumi, I’ve never met anyone who sees the world the way you do. You make me want to question everything I think I know.” He reached over to the nightstand—when had he planned this?—and produced a small velvet box.
“Marry me.”
For a long moment, Sumi couldn’t breathe. She’d spent so many years waiting for something extraordinary, something impossible, and here was Irfan—brilliant, handsome, human Irfan—offering her something real.
“Yes,” she whispered, “Oh my God Yes!” she screamed before kissing him.
He kissed her deep and slow while he slipped the ring onto her finger. When they finally broke apart, Sumi couldn’t stop looking at the small diamond catching the sunlight.
That night, lying beside Irfan in the dark, his breathing deep and even beside her, Sumi felt his chest still heaving slightly with exertion.
She smiled, remembering how intense it had been—the way he’d made her come three times, how he’d recovered and been ready again so quickly. Almost superhuman.
Almost. She was still smiling when dreams claimed her sleep.
Dreams or Premonition?
He appeared at the foot of the bed. She couldn’t see his face clearly, but she knew him. He stepped closer extending a hand for her. Where was she? Who cared?
His fingers traced patterns on her skin that felt like they were rewriting her nervous system, and when his mouth followed, she heard herself gasp.
This wasn’t sex like she’d ever had. This was something else entirely.
When Zoran entered her, the sensation was overwhelming—too much, too perfect, like her body had been designed for exactly this.
He moved with inhuman stamina, driving into her with a rhythm that built and built without mercy.
She came once, twice, lost count. Each orgasm crashed into the next without pause, and somewhere in the midst of it she was begging—”Don’t stop, please don’t stop, Zoran please—ZORAN!”
And then she was awake.
Gasping in the dark. Sheets soaked with sweat. Heart pounding so hard she thought it might break through her ribs.
“Who’s Zoran?” Irfan mumbled next to her, wiping his eyes.
Sumi’s chest heaved. She could still feel the phantom sensation between her legs, the ache of impossible pleasure. “I—it was just a dream.”
As Irfan pulled her close, trying to comfort her, whispering reassuring words into her ears,
Sumi stared at the ceiling and wondered if she was losing her mind. Or if someone was finally finding her.
A Week Before The Wedding
“It’s been every night since the engagement,” Sumi said.
They were in Irfan’s office at the university, the door closed. Outside, campus buzzed with midterm energy, but inside was just the two of them and a truth Sumi could no longer keep silent.
Irfan looked stricken. “Sumi, if this is stress about the wedding, we can postpone—”
“It’s not stress.” She met his eyes. “Irfan, I’m having the best sex of my life in these dreams. I wake up… satisfied. More than satisfied. And I’m telling you because I don’t want secrets between us with the wedding just a week away, but I also don’t know what the hell is happening.”
He was quiet for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was measured, academic. “There’s a condition—sleep-related parasomnia—where people experience vivid sexual content. It’s actually more common than most people realize.”
“This isn’t parasomnia.”
“Then what is it?”
She wanted to say, *I don’t know, but it feels real.*
Instead she said, “it’s nothing. I just needed you to know. That’s all.”
Irfan reached across the desk and took her hand. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
But that night, when Irfan left for a conference in Mumbai, Sumi found herself both relieved and terrified.
She waited. Went to bed early. Lay in the dark, heart racing.
Nothing.
Hours passed. Still nothing.
At 3 AM, she gave up. Threw on a robe and went out to the balcony of their apartment, staring up at stars.
She screamed.
“Come on, PROVE IT! Stop torturing me with dreams! I’m done with shadows and maybe and almost. Take me or leave me alone!”
Her voice echoed off the surrounding buildings. A dog barked somewhere. A light turned on in a neighboring apartment.
Sumi waited.
Nothing.
She went back inside, tears streaming down her face. Crawled into bed. Eventually, exhausted, she drifted off to sleep.
At 4 AM, the bedroom door opened.
Sumi’s eyes snapped open immediately. The room was still dark, but there was light spilling in from the hallway—except she hadn’t left any lights on.
The figure in the doorway was backlit, features obscured.
Sumi sat up slowly, heart pounding. The figure stepped into the room, and as her eyes adjusted, she could see him as he crawled into her bed.
“Zoran.” She whispered.
He smiled.
Wedding Day
Sumi sat alone on the balcony of the hotel suite, watching the sun rise over the city. The Nikah was in eight hours. Downstairs, the venue was being decorated. Her family and Irfan’s family were probably already fighting about something insignificant. She’d been told to rest, to preserve her energy for the long day ahead.
Instead, she was praying.
Not to any god her family would recognize. Not even a prayer, really. More of a plea.
*Now or never*, she thought, hands pressed together in her lap. *Please. Prove you’re real. Not in dreams. Not in visits that might be hallucinations. Make me the mother of your child before I marry a human. Please come.*
The words felt insane even thinking them. But after that night with Zoran in her bedroom, everything seemed to have changed and yet, everything was just the same. She had felt full and empty at the same time. Claimed and discarded. Loved and used. And she wanted more.
She looked up at the early morning sky, a single tear trickling down her cheek.
*Please*, she thought to the sky. *Give me a sign.*
The sky remained silent.
Behind her, she heard movement. Her bridesmaids had arrived, noisy and giggling. The day had begun.
The wedding was beautiful.
A traditional Nikah, mostly—her family had insisted—with enough modern touches to satisfy Irfan’s more progressive relatives. The floral decorations were simple yet beautiful. When she said ‘Qubool’—I do—he felt something tear inside her chest.
*It’s over*, she thought. *This is my real life. Forget the fantasies.*
It was part acceptance, part mourning.
“I love you,” he mouthed silently.
“I love you too,” she mouthed back.
And meant it. She did love him. Only, it wasn’t just him that she loved.
The bridal suite was on the top floor of the hotel, a sprawling room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking an infinity pool and the city skyline beyond it.
By the time they finally made it there—after dinner, after photos, after what felt like a thousand well-wishers—Irfan was visibly exhausted.
“Come here,” he said, pulling her close.
They kissed, and Sumi tasted champagne on his breath.
His hands found and untied the strings of her lehenga with practiced ease—they’d done this enough times now—but there was something clumsy about his movements tonight. As her lehnga dropped to the floor, she couldn’t understand why she felt naked.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Perfect,” he said, but his words were slightly slurred. “Just… very happy. And maybe a little anxious.”
They made it to the bed in a tangle of silk and jewelry. Irfan’s mouth found her neck, her chin, her collarbone.
His hands reached around her and untied her blouse, peeling it off her body. She sighed as his mouth found her breasts.
His hand slipped between her legs and she gasped—he was good at this, had learned her body well over the past months.
She guided his head between her legs. He peeled her panties off.
She bit her lip, surrendering her body to him. His hands reached up and squeezed her breasts before his fingers started playing with her nipples, driving her closer and closer to the point of no return.
But she wanted him in her when she came and pushed his head away.
When he entered her, something felt wrong.
He thrust maybe a dozen times, his rhythm already frantic and uncontrolled, before he came with a surprised grunt, collapsing onto her.
“Fuck,” he mumbled into her neck. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered, stroking his hair. “We have a lifetime.”
He managed a weak laugh. “I’m going to make it up to you tomorrow. Multiple times.”
“Can’t wait.”
Within minutes, he was asleep—still partially dressed, one arm flung across her waist, breathing deep and even, leaving her naked and craving release.
Sumi lay staring at the ceiling for a while. She should feel disappointed, maybe. Or frustrated. Instead, she felt nothing. Just a strange, hollow certainty that this wasn’t what she’d been waiting for.
Carefully, she extracted herself from under his arm. Found a hotel provided robe and wrapped it around her naked body. Her legs felt shaky as she crossed to the balcony doors and stepped outside.
The city sprawled below, all light and noise even at this hour. She gripped the railing, cool metal against her palms, and tilted her head back to look at the stars.
*This is it*, she thought. *This is my real life. I have to settle for boring reality.*
The emptiness inside her chest yawned wider. She discarded the robe and slipped into the cold water.
The air changed first. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Sumi closed her eyes.
He was between her legs finishing what Irfan had stated. His lips muffled her scream of pleasure and he was in her even before her orgasm reached its zenith.
“You are real!” she mumbled into his lips.
“I am,”
“Who are you?”
“You won’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“The world is about to change in the years and decades to come. Population explosion, climate collapse, resource wars. We kill ourselves. Every last one. Humanity is headed irreversibly towards extinction.”
“So what are you? An alien?”
“I’m as human as you are. Just… from further along the timeline.”
Sumi blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“Think of the year 2250. That’s when I am born. But humanity is supposed to end in 2187. “
“No. That’s not—”
“Possible? It’s not just possible, Sumi. It’s certain. Unless we change something and introduce a paradox.”
Sumi’s mind raced, trying to find the logic. “What paradox?”
This was unreal. She was half submerged in a pool outside the honeymoon suite where her husband slept with a man who claimed to be from the future, his erection buried in her depths, slowly moving back and forth as he continued to speak.
“If a child exists who carries genetic material from after the extinction date—from me, from after 2250—then extinction becomes paradox.” Zoran’s eyes held hers. “Your child will be living proof that humans exist beyond 2187. The timeline can’t erase what already exists in the past. Reality has to reconcile. The extinction event… gets rewritten.”
Understanding crashed over her like a cold wave. “So you need me to—”
“I need you to choose.” His voice was soft. “You can say no. Go back inside to your husband, live your human life, and forget that humanity ends in 161 years. Or—”
“Or?”
“Our daughter will birth a new lineage of humanity from every race. And humanity gets a future.”
Sumi looked back at the glass doors. Through them, she could just make out the shape of Irfan on the bed, dead to the world.
“He’s a good man,” Zoran said. “I’m not asking you to leave him. I’m not asking for your life. Just… tonight. One choice.”
“Yes.”
The weight of the word should have crushed her. Instead, Sumi felt something else entirely: relief.
He started moving in and out of her faster, his lips found hers and she welcomed every bit of him into her.
The kiss was too intense, like touching lightning, like every nerve in her body suddenly rewiring itself around pleasure.
Sumi heard herself make a sound, desperate and hungry, and Zoran’s arms came around her waist, pulling her flush against him.
His body was warm but wrong—temperature just slightly off, heart beating that too-fast rhythm she’d felt under her palm.
His mouth moved to her neck and she gasped, head falling back to give him access, and when his teeth grazed her pulse point she felt the sensation echo between her legs.
He was moving faster and faster in her and her body was spiraling downhill towards heaven. When her orgasm hit, she cried out—too loud, surely someone would hear.
“No one can hear.” He mumbled into her ears as if reading her mind.
“Please,” she gasped when he finally released her mouth. “Please, I need—”
“I know what you need.”
He picked her up—effortlessly, like she weighed nothing—and let her settle on him. She sighed as he filled her again.
He started to move again, deep strokes that hit depths she didn’t know she had, and Sumi lost all sense of time. Maybe minutes.
Maybe hours. He was relentless, tireless, driving into her with mechanical precision that somehow felt more intimate than any human touch.
She came again. And again. Lost count somewhere. Each orgasm crashed into the next without pause, a continuous wave of pleasure that rewrote her understanding of what her body could feel.
At some point he turned her over, took her from behind with his hand fisted in her hair, and the new angle made her scream into the cushions.
At some point he had her ride him while he played with her breasts, and she felt split open by sensation.
At some point—she’d lost all sense of sequence—he lifted her legs over his shoulders and pounded into her with inhuman stamina, and she felt something shift deep inside her as his seed filled her.
“You’re conceiving,” Zoran whispered, never breaking rhythm.
“I can’t—too much—”
“You can. You will.”
And she did. Rode the overwhelming pleasure until finally—after what felt like an eternity—he stopped cumming.
When he pulled out, she felt the heat of him in her depths. Felt reality itself shift and accommodate the impossible. She closed her eyes.
“Good morning beautiful,” Irfan’s face was above her when she opened her eyes. She smiled.
“Let’s make a baby,” she said kissing him.
She let him roll on top of her. Let him slide inside with a satisfied groan.
His rhythm was slow, sleepy, nothing like the overwhelming intensity of Zoran.
Where Zoran had been impossibly deep, Irfan felt almost shallow. Where Zoran had been tireless, Irfan was already breathing hard after a minute.
Sumi held him and stared at the ceiling, feeling the impossible taking root inside her.
Present Day
“—and that’s how I knew I was pregnant before the test,” Sumi finished.
The living room was silent. Her friends stared at her with expressions ranging from disbelief to barely contained laughter.
Then Ruhi broke first, bursting into giggles. “Okay. THAT is the best ‘blame the future’ pregnancy story I’ve ever heard.”
“Sumi,” Neha said, wiping her eyes, “you should write this down. It would make a hell of a novel.”
“Time traveling sperm,” Priya said, deadpan. “From the year 2250. To save humanity from extinction. That’s your story.”
Sumi smiled her shy smile, hand resting on her swollen belly. “That’s my story.”
More laughter. Someone made a joke about the best excuse for pregnancy she’d ever heard. Someone else started talking about their own weird pregnancy symptoms.
The conversation moved on, as conversations do, flowing toward baby names and nursery colors and all the normal concerns of impending motherhood.
Sumi touched her belly and smiled.
The future was safe. For now.
END
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