She gives him a small but earnest smile, deciphering his meaning. She adds some butter in the pan and after it melts, pours in the eggs carefully. "Low heat. They'll cook too quickly for scramble otherwise." She stirs the mixture occasionally with a wooden spoon, staying quiet for a moment.

"We should probably keep this to ourselves for the time being," she says quietly. "I mean, outside the select people we trust. We can't hide it forever, obviously." Wetting her lips nervously, she digs for the scant pieces of information she has about pregnancies in general. "But I think the chance for a miscarriage goes down after three months."