Free The Gift by Danielle Steel

uncomfortable too, no matter how little she knew, that getting rid of it might be murder.
    “Are you going to keep it?” he asked, sounding panicked. What was Debbie going to say? She'd kill him.
    “No. I'm going to give it away,” she said. She had thought about it a lot. And it seemed like the only solution. The doctor says I can live with the nuns once it shows, and then give it to them, and they'll put it up for adoption.” And then she turned, and asked him a strange question. “Would you want to see it?” But he shook his head, and then turned away. He hated how she made him feel, inadequate and frightened, and angry. He knew that he was being less than he should to her. But he didn't have the guts to take this on with her. And he didn't want to lose Debbie.
    “I'm sorry, Maribeth. I feel like such an S.O.B.” She Wanted to tell him that he was, but she couldn't. She wanted to say she understood, but she couldn't do that either, because she didn't. She didn't understand anything. What had happened to them, why they had done it, why she had gotten pregnant, and why he was going to be marrying Debbie instead of her, while she hid with the nuns and had his baby. It was all so out of control.
    They sat in silence for a little while after that, and then he left, and she knew she'd never speak to him again. She only saw him once, the day before graduation, and he didn't say anything to her. He just looked at her, and then turned away, and she walked back across the campus alone, with tears streaming down her face, not wanting to have his baby. It was all so unfair, and she was feeling sicker every day.
    The week after school let out, she was kneeling over the toilet one day, puking her brains out, and she had forgotten to lock the door, when her brother came in and saw her.
    “Sorry, Sis …oh my God … are you sick?” Ryan looked instantly sorry for her, and then just as quickly a light dawned, and he stared as she vomited again and he understood. “Shit, you're pregnant.” It was a statement, not a question.
    She lay there, with her head resting on the toilet for a long time, and then finally she stood up, and he was still staring at her, his face devoid of sympathy, only filled with accusation. “Dad's going to kill you.”
    “What makes you so sure I'm pregnant?” She tried to sound flip with him, but he knew her better.
    ”Who's the guy?”
    “None of your business,” she said, feeling a wave of nausea sweep over her again, more out of nerves and terror.
    “You'd better tell him to get out his good suit, or start running. Dad'll have his ass if he doesn't do right by you.
    “Thanks for the advice' she said, and walked slowly out of the bathroom. But she knew now that her days were numbered. And she was right.
    Ryan told her father that afternoon, and he came home in a rage and nearly tore off the door to her bedroom. She was lying there on the bed, while Noelle listened to records and did her nails. And he pulled Maribeth into the living room and shouted for her mother. Maribeth had been trying to think about how she was going to tell them, but now she didn't have to. Ryan had done it for her.
    Her mother was already crying by the time she came out of her room, and Ryan looked grim, as though she had wronged him too. Her father had told Noelle to stay in their room. And he was like a raging bull as he stormed around the living room, telling Maribeth how she was just like her aunts, and had behaved like a whore, and dishonored them all. And then he demanded to know who had gotten her pregnant. But she was prepared for that. She didn't care what they did to her. She wasn't going to tell them.
    She had thought Paul was dazzling and exciting, and she would have loved to fall in love with him, and have him want her. But he wasn't in love with her, and he was marrying someone else. She didn't want to start her life out like that, at sixteen, and ruin it completely. She'd rather have the baby, and give it