“Shh…say no more. I know how it happens.”
“You do?” Della asked, looking into her eyes.
“Yes. I’m a school teacher, remember? Lots of girls have told me.”
“It happens to other girls?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want to be a mother.” There, I’ve said it, the truth. I don’t want a baby to take care of.
“You’re going to have a baby.”
“I’ll get an abortion.”
Sister Bess stared at her for some time. “I can’t believe you said that. Abortion is murder. And it’s illegal. Life is precious. A baby is a gift from God!”
“A gift from God?” Della stared at her in disbelief. “How am I going to take care of a baby?” She buried her face in her hands.
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