"And the Best Supporting Actress goes to—Nathalie Braun!" the host shouted as cameras swung toward her.
"Thank you—" Nathalie reached for the envelope and froze.
"Are you okay?" the host stepped closer, voice dipping to hold the live audience.
"I... I—" Nathalie's hand went to her stomach. She doubled over without warning.
A flash popped. Somebody gasped.
"Security!" a producer barked from offstage.
"Medic! Get up here!" another voice called.
The live feed cut to a tight shot of her face. Her makeup was perfect. Her eyes were not.
"Stay with us, Nathalie," the host urged. He leaned in and tried to take the envelope.
She rocked on her feet and fumbled; the envelope slipped from her fingers and burst open on the stage floor. A thin white strip fluttered out and landed near the microphone stand.
"What is that?" a commentator said, sharp.
"Pause the camera!" someone shouted in the booth, but the feed kept streaming. The strip was small and unmistakable to the trained eye.
"Is that—" a woman in the front row whispered loud enough for the audience mic to catch.
"Pregnancy test?" someone else said.
"Don't show it!" a producer hissed into his headset.
Too late. The camera had already zoomed down. Pixels streamed across phones held high. Hashtags lit up on the live feed: #NathaliePregnant, #Scandal, #HarborAwards.
"Nathalie, we need you offstage," Bonnie's voice cut through the noise behind the curtain.
Nathalie tried to nod. Her lips trembled. She grabbed the
