Fragile (Broken #2) SVU

Chapter Fifteen.

**Amanda's POV**

After driving Olivia and Sky back to their apartment, I head for home myself. Today has been a mixture of emotions and I'm exhausted. I'm proud of Sky for standing up in court today, even if it didn't go according to plan. Surely the jury will see she's terrified and most certainly not lying. I rescued her from the warehouse myself, I saw what she went through with my own two eyes.

My apartment is quiet. It unnerves me, and the blackness swallows me whole as I close the front door. The light shining from under the bathroom door is enough to guide me to the couch, where I collapse and let sleep take over.

**

I wake early. It's still dark outside but I get up for work anyway. I have paperwork that needs filling in and I want to get a head start before my shift officially starts. I shower in silence, forgoing my usual upbeat playlist, and instead letting the silence wrap around me.

As I brush my hair in front of the mirror, I look down and spot a very familiar looking package in the wastebin. I pull it out - the cardboard box of the pregnancy tests I keep in my medicine cupboards, just in case. Confused, I root around until I find a used test. I gasp as two little lines stare back at me. I haven't taken one, and the only other person who has been in my house is Sky.

"Shit. That son of a bitch." I whisper under my breath.

My first thought is to call Olivia and tell her. She needs to know. Sky will need prenatal care if she decides to keep the baby, and if not, she needs to make a decision about what she wants to do. I decide to confront Sky about it first, knowing the least I can do is to give her a chance to tell Olivia herself. She's already had enough people steal away her choices.

**Olivia's POV**

I don't have the heart to wake Sky up. She's exhausted, and while she is sleeping without nightmares, I see no harm in letting her sleep a little longer.

I am worried about her. This trial has taken its toll on her, a lot more than I had anticipated. The amount of cases I've witnessed over the years are too many to count, but it's different when it involves someone you love.

As I butter my toast, I can't help but think how much weight Sky has lost. I keep hoping it's stress and because the trauma is so raw and exposed, but I know I need to keep an eye on her.

"Morning." Sky says as she pads from her bedroom and throws herself down on the couch.

"Hi baby. How are you feeling?" I ask, joining her.

"Better for some sleep I guess."

I pass her a piece of toast,

"I'm not hungry." She says, turning away from me.

"You need to eat Sky. You need all the strength you can get."

She sighs but takes the toast from me anyway. She holds it out in front of her like it's a loaded gun.

"Eat it baby."

I carry on eating the rest of my breakfast as Sky continues to stare at the toast. Her eyebrows furrow and I can see the cogs working in her brain. She pushes her finger into the toast, and watches the butter dribble down her finger.

She puts the slice back on the plate and walks away.

"Sky, come back. You need to eat."

She ignores me, and slams shut her bedroom door so hard the walls shake.