Firefly Glen Six is not a pretty number; eight or three is definitely better

She felt fogged, still in shock from the weight of what the woman had said. All she could do was nod and agree numbly. Yes. Please, Without the man who fathered them. A surge of panic gripped her. I don't know what I'll do. I always thought I would have a partner for this.

There was no one else around to tell these things to, so it fell to this helpful stranger. Marina had always assumed there would be time to decide these things. To choose what and who she wanted. Instead it felt as if the architecture of her future had collapsed and fallen into her lap all at once, and now she was left to sort the mess. Alone, except for a stranger who for some reason wanted to help.