Ben opened his mouth to reply, but for a moment could not find any word to encompass what was going on in his head aside from the obvious, which he'd already said: fuck.

He paced, wishing he had a drink but also knowing that he could not afford to be intoxicated until he'd figured out where she'd gone and what she was doing.

"She's gone," he said, although he recognized that this explanation would not even come close to explanation his level of panic, from Art's perspective. "She's pregnant," he continued, his stomach flipping as he said the words out loud for the first time. "She's pregnant and I don't know where she is."

Which was the whole reason for the panic, although Art still didn't likely have enough context to understand exactly what it was Ben was worried about — where his mind had gone when Melody's mother had called her but a young girl. He didn't know what Ben knew; what Melody was capable of, when she felt cornered and alone and helpless.