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“Are you sick? It’s normal. Here, this will help.” She grabbed something on a nightstand beside the bed and brought it over to Brandy. It was a clear, bubbly liquid. When she drank it, she grimaced. It tasted like an old jock strap.

“Oh God, that’s awful. What is it?”

Charis stared into the empty glass. “Something the doctor whipped up for me, but it will come in handy for you. Morning sickness can be a real drag, but this will help. It made me feel much better.”

Brandy put her hand on her stomach, hoping the liquid would settle it. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Charis took Brandy’s free hand, gazing into her eyes. “Enough about me. How are you? Is everything okay? Were they terrible to you?”

“They were… okay. Sometimes more than okay.” She thought of Drake, Tork, and Wrek. “Are they here? I mean, what did Han do to them?”

Charis frowned. “They’re in a holding cell right now. Han confiscated their ship. They’re going to be tried on criminal charges.”

Tried on charges. That sounded bad. “Han’s not going to do anything to them, is he? They’re nice guys for the most part.”

Charis gave Brandy a look that was so soaked in pity in made her want to vomit again. “Honey, how can you say they’re nice guys? They abducted you, locked you up.”

“If you only knew them—”

“They raped you.” Charis stared at Brandy unflinchingly.

“What? No. No, they didn’t. At first, Drake was kind of rough, but we worked it out. They didn’t—”

“Brandy,” Charis said, stopping her. “You’re pregnant.”

The blood drained from Brandy’s head.

“What did you say?”

Charis squeezed her hand, appearing as if she was delivering the world’s worst news. “I said you’re pregnant. You’re having a baby. One of theirs.”