Chapter 1 - 3:47 A.M.
The contraction hit before I reached the hospital bag.
One second I was walking.
The next, my knees were bending beneath me.
I caught the hallway wall with one hand and wrapped the other around the underside of my belly.
“Richard.”
No answer.
Pain climbed through my lower back and tightened across my abdomen until my lungs seemed too small.
I had been contracting for three hours.
At first every twelve minutes.
Then eight.
Then six.
Now less than four.
Eight months pregnant with twins, I knew exactly what my obstetrician had told me.
Do not wait for contractions to become textbook labor.
Do not drive yourself.
Do not stay home after your water breaks.
If they become regular, come in.
My hospital bag sat beside the front closet.
Ten feet away.
I breathed through my nose.
Out through my mouth.
“Richard!”
A bedroom door opened.
Not ours.
Barbara stepped into the hallway.
My mother-in-law wore a pale blue robe tied neatly at the waist.
Her silver-blond hair looked almost perfect.
At 3:47 in the morning.
That should have frightened me sooner.
“Where’s Richard?”
“He’s awake.”
“Good. Tell him to bring the car around.”
Barbara did not move.
I reached for the hospital bag.
She stepped directly in front of it.
“Barbara.”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
For one second I honestly thought I had misunderstood.
“What?”
She raised her right hand.
My car keys hung from her fingers.
My keys.
The key ring with the faded Colorado Rockies tag my brother gave me in college.
I stared.
“Why do you have those?”
She closed her fist around them.
“The babies are coming. I need the hospital—now!”
“You’re not leaving this house.”
My heart began pounding faster than the contraction.
“Give me my keys.”
“No.”
“What the hell are you doing?”
Footsteps behind her.
Richard appeared from the kitchen.
Plaid robe.
Bare feet.
Completely awake.
Not confused.
Not surprised.
Watching.
“Richard.”
He said nothing.
I looked at his face.
Then at Barbara.
Something inside me went cold.
“You knew.”
“Melody,” he said, “listen.”
“No.”
Another contraction grabbed me.
I reached for the wall.
My belly became impossibly hard.
Twin A—our little girl—pressed low.
Twin B had been transverse at my appointment two days earlier.
Dr. Carlson had said:
“If labor starts before we reassess position, come directly in.”
I bent forward.
“Hospital.”
Barbara moved toward me as though trying to soothe a child.
“You’ll stay home and follow the plan.”
“What plan?”
“The plan we discussed.”
“I never agreed to stay here.”
“You agreed not to panic.”
“That is not the same thing.”
Richard stepped closer.
“Mel.”
“Give me my keys.”
“We can wait another hour.”
“No.”
“The birth attendant is already on her way.”
I stopped breathing.
“The what?”
Barbara glanced at Richard.
There.
A mistake.
A shared fact they had not intended to give me yet.
“Who is coming?”
Richard rubbed his face.
“Melody, just calm down.”
My phone sat on the narrow entry table.
I grabbed it.
Barbara moved.
“Put that down.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“You’ll make this worse.”
I unlocked the screen.
Three weeks earlier, after Barbara hid my purse during an argument and later claimed she had “moved it for safekeeping,” I had activated the emergency shortcut my hospital social worker showed me.
Five presses.
Emergency services.
GPS.
Automatic audio-video recording to cloud storage.
I had never used it.
My thumb pressed the side button.
Once.
Twice.
Three.
Four.
Five.
The phone vibrated.
Then a calm voice announced:
“Emergency services contacted. Location sharing active. Live recording active.”
Barbara’s face collapsed.
Richard moved so fast I barely registered it.
He lunged toward the phone.
I jerked it against my chest.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Turn it off.”
“No.”
“Melody.”
“You stole my keys.”
“I didn’t.”
I looked directly at Barbara.
“You did this.”
Another pain tightened low.
Different.
Pressure.
I gasped.
Warm fluid suddenly rushed down my thighs.
Hit the hardwood.
Spread around my bare feet.
All three of us looked down.
My water had broken.
Barbara whispered:
“Oh.”
The first siren sounded somewhere beyond our street.
Richard’s face changed.
“What did you tell them?”
“I didn’t have to tell them anything.”
Barbara still held the keys.
I pointed.
“Put those down.”
She hid them behind her back.
Actually hid them.
Like a child caught stealing.
Sirens grew louder.
My phone displayed:
EMERGENCY CALL CONNECTED.
A dispatcher’s voice came through.
“Melody? If you can hear me, help is arriving.”
Barbara whispered:
“Don’t answer.”
I laughed.
Painfully.
“You’re insane.”
Then violent pounding shook the front door.
“PARAMEDICS! OPEN THE DOOR!”
Richard moved toward it.
Barbara grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
I stared at them.
“What?”
She whispered something.
I did not hear it.
The pounding came again.
“PARAMEDICS!”
I screamed:
“I’M IN LABOR! THEY TOOK MY KEYS!”
Silence.
Then the front door burst inward.
Two paramedics entered first.
Emergency bags.
Stretcher crew behind them.
The lead medic stopped when he saw me on the floor.
Then he saw Barbara.
Her arm was still behind her back.
“Ma’am?”
She slowly brought her hand forward.
The keys glittered beneath the entry light.
The paramedic’s eyes moved to Richard.
Then back to me.
“What exactly is going on here?”
Barbara opened her mouth.
May you like
I gripped my belly.
And before she could answer, another contraction hit so hard that I screamed.
