Chapter 2

Leah's POV

The man opened his bag on the floor instead of helping me to the stairs.

“Which hospital are you from?” I asked.

“Hold out your arm.”

“I need to be examined. I'm bleeding.”

“Remo told me.”

He took out a syringe. I pulled my arm against my chest.

“What is that?”

“Something for the contractions.”

“Call an ambulance.”

Remo came up behind me and pinned my wrist against the wall. I tried to turn my face toward the doorway, toward anyone who might be passing, but he pressed my cheek into the plaster.

“Stop moving.”

The needle went in. The man put it away before I could read anything on the packaging.

“Will she stay quiet?” Remo asked.

“She should.”

“Don't leave me,” I said when the man lifted his bag. “You can't give me something and leave.”

The door shut behind them.

I waited for the pain to ease. It didn't. Another contraction came before I had recovered from the last. My legs shook when I tried to stand, and I sank back onto the floor.

The baby moved once beneath my hand.

Then I waited too long for the next movement.

I pressed gently along the place where I'd felt her. “Come on, sweetheart.”

A tray scraped under the door.

“Leah?”

Nora crouched outside, her face close to the gap. She looked past me at the blood and set the plate down without asking whether I was hungry.

“Can you stand?”

“I need help.”

“I know. Tell me what I can do.”

“They won't take me to a hospital. That man gave me something, and now she's hardly moving.”

Nora looked toward the stairs.

“I can try Damian again.”

“No.” I caught the edge of her tray. “He already knows. He heard me, Nora. Don't spend time asking him.”

She stayed beside the door. “Then who?”

I pulled the card from beneath my dress. My fingers had left damp marks on the edges, but the number was still legible.

“Call this. If they don't answer, send the address. Tell them Leah needs them.”

“Who is it?”

“Someone who'll come.”

I hadn't used that number since before my wedding. I had kept it anyway. Now I pushed the card through the gap in the door until Nora could take it.

“Please don't give it to Remo.”

She folded it into her palm.

“Stay near the door. I'll come back.”

“Nora.”

She stopped.

“If they answer, tell them I'm having the baby.”

“I will.”

Her footsteps went up the stairs. I listened until I couldn't distinguish them from the movement overhead.

I drank from the cup she'd left me. Some of the water spilled down my neck. I used the rest to wet my mouth and kept the empty cup beside my knee, close enough to strike the door if I heard her return.

I had to stay awake.

When my daughter finally moved again, it was faint. I didn't tell myself she was sleeping. I put my palm where I'd felt her and counted my own breaths until footsteps came back.

Nora spoke without crouching this time.

“I sent it. The address and what you told me.”

“Did anyone answer?”

“I couldn't wait. Remo's coming back.”

A light went out in the hallway. I heard a switch click twice, then Remo swearing from the stairs.

“Nora? Where the hell are you?”

The lock turned.

She opened the door only a few inches.

“There's a side door past the stairs. I left it open. Go when he goes up to check the lights.”

I caught her sleeve and used it to pull myself upright. Pain stopped me halfway. Nora put my arm across her shoulders until I was standing.

“I'll get you out of here,” she whispered.

Remo called her again.

She let go, leaving my hand on the wall.

I waited until his steps climbed. Then I pushed through the opening.

The hallway tilted when I looked toward the stairs. I lowered my eyes and followed the wall instead. One hand, one foot, then the other. I stopped when a contraction caught me and moved again when it loosened.

The side door was open exactly as Nora had promised.

Outside, cold air reached my wet dress. A car waited across the loading yard. I could see a man's polished shoe beside its open door.

“Help me.”

My knees gave out on the concrete. I reached for the nearest tire and pulled myself forward.

The man stepped away from the car.

I knew his coat. I'd watched him put it on before Remo brought me downstairs.

“Damian,” I said. “Thank God.”