Lost : Book 1 of Trilogy

21.

A/n: updating again tn, bare with me (barely proofread this)
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Bey's POV
Off-campus Apartment
Houston, Texas
Saturday
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I was dead to the world, sprawled across my bed with the covers tangled around my legs. My mouth hung open, drool pooling on the pillow beneath me. I hadn't slept this good in weeks and I needed it, especially after last night.

My body felt heavy, sinking deeper into the mattress as the sunlight beamed through my bedroom curtains.

I wanted to sleep in all day. But, of course my plans were cut short by the buzzing of my phone breaking through the silence in my room.

I groaned, rolling over and pulling a pillow over my head. "Absolutely not."

Whoever it was could wait.

The buzzing stopped, and I let out a breathe in relief, sinking back into the mattress. But a second later, it started again, louder this time, or maybe it just felt that way because I was two seconds away from throwing my fucking phone across the room.

"What the fuck." I whined, blindly reaching for my phone on the nightstand.

The screen lit up, and I squinted at the name flashing across it.

Solange.

The grogginess in my body evaporated instantly. She would never called me this early unless something was wrong.

I learned that the last time.

"Hello?" My voice came out raspy as I frowned.

"B-Bey..." Her voice was shaky and broken by quiet sobs.

"Solange?" I called out much clearer as I sat up fully, holding my phone tighter. "What's wrong?"

All I heard on the other end was muffled crying. "Solange?"

Her crying sounded eerily similar to when she'd called me weeks ago, terrified ass fuck that she might've been pregnant.

"What's wrong?" I asked her yet again, urgency lacing my voice as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

Through her sobs, I could barely make out her words. "Dad...knows." She choked out between sniffles. "About the baby, Bey. He knows."

My stomach dropped.

In the background, I could hear all of the chaos coming from my family's home. My dad's booming voice overpowered everything else, each word sharp and cutting.

"Mathew, calm down." My mom's voice followed behind his yelling. Her voice was wavered.

"Beyoncé, he's so mad." Solange cried, her words tumbled out in a rush. "Mama found the test this morning—she wasn't even supposed to know yet, but she found it while cleaning. She told him. And now..."

Her voice cracked, and I could practically feel her panic through the phone.

"I need you to come here." She begged. "Please, Bey. I can't do this alone."