You will hear two voices. Your own. And another, slightly behind yours, speaking in reverse.
You will be sitting in Remedial Latin. You will feel a tiny, sharp kick against your lower ribs. You will gasp. The girl next to you—her belly a perfect, taut globe—will not look up. She knows what that kick means: spooky pregnant school: the quickening
You will file into the basement auditorium. The lights are the color of a bruise. You will lie on a gurney. A cold, stethoscope-like device—too long, too flexible—will be inserted into your navel. You will hear two voices
At , we do not teach biology. We teach echoes . slightly behind yours
