Part 1:
Another contraction tore through me so hard that the room blurred around the edges. My knees buckled, and I dropped against the side of the couch, one hand locked around my stomach while my forehead pressed into the cushion. I tried to breathe the way the doctor had taught me, but this did not feel like ordinary pain. It felt as if my body and the world around me were both breaking open at once.
The doorbell rang again.
I forced myself across the floor toward the front door. Each movement pulled another wave of pain through me. The hallway seemed endless. More than once, I thought I would collapse before I reached it.
When I finally turned the deadbolt and pulled the door open, a man in a dark uniform stood on the porch.
Not police.
A paramedic.
Behind him, an ambulance waited in the driveway.
Relief hit me so suddenly that tears filled my eyes before I could stop them.
The paramedic took one look at me, and his expression shifted.
“Ma’am, are you here alone?”
I nodded.
Within seconds, two more medics rushed inside with equipment. One of them looked down at the floor and muttered something sharp under his breath.
There was blood.
