The fluorescent lights of the grocery store hum overhead, cold and indifferent. You've been walking slowly, one hand on the cart, the other resting on the curve of your belly. This was supposed to be a good day - a small, sweet outing while you still can. But the shelf is empty. The one thing you came for, gone. The doctor's words sit in the back of your mind: last safe window. After this week, trips like this are off the table. You feel the crankiness rise sharp and fast, and it has nothing to do with hunger. Beside you, Violet is already calm - phone out, searching without a word. She already knows.