Lila sat on the edge of her bed, the pregnancy test clutched in her trembling hand. Her mind raced, attempting to reconcile the reality of the two pink lines with the summer that had felt like a dream. "How did it come to this?"

Lila approached, her steps heavy with the burden of her secret. Mark turned, his face breaking into a smile that faltered upon seeing her expression. "We need to talk," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mark listened, eyes widening with each word. His mind flashed back to their summer days—carefree, innocent, and now seeming a world away. "What do we do now?" he asked, fear and determination battling in his voice.

Lila picked up a pen and began writing in her journal, the words forming both a letter to her unborn child and a confession to herself. "Dear Baby," she wrote, pausing to collect her thoughts. "I’m scared, but I promise to be the best I can for you."

Lila sat across from them, her hands clasped tightly together. She took a deep breath, her heart pounding. "I need to tell you something," she began, her voice steady despite the storm inside her.

With each brushstroke, Lila poured her hopes and fears into her art, channeling her emotions into creating something beautiful. "This is just the beginning," she whispered to herself, feeling a spark of hope amidst the uncertainty.