Please? Someone? Help me?
Kitty tried to stay calm, but panic crept in as the contractions became stronger. She had no idea how long this would take and had no medical supplies or assistance. She didn’t know how to do this.
She was alone and terrified.
As the pain intensified, Kitty remembered watching a movie recently with Damian where a woman gave birth. She tried to focus on her breathing, like the woman in the movie had done it, inhaling deeply through her nose and exhaling slowly through her mouth. It helped for a moment, but soon the contractions became too intense to ignore.
What do I do? What if I do it wrong?
She felt hot tears stream down her face as she realized that she might not make it through this alone. She tried to push the thoughts away, but they kept coming back. What if something went wrong? What if she couldn’t deliver the baby? What if the baby didn’t survive?
Just as she was about to give up hope, Kitty heard the sound of footsteps approaching the shed. She tried to call out for help, but her voice was weak.
The bolt was pushed aside and in came Damian. He looked at her, then gasped.
“Are you okay?”
She grunted and shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
He came to her and sat by the bedside. Kitty’s face was slick with sweat as she groaned in pain. Damian grabbed her hand in his and gazed down at her with a mixture of fear and determination.
Kitty’s voice was soft and hoarse from screaming as she said weakly, “Please help me.”
He nodded. “We can do this. We can do this together.”
Damian nodded his head and squeezed her hand tight, trying to give her strength. He spoke softly, assuring her that everything would be all right.
“I’m here for you.”
She screamed again and, finally, after what felt like an eternity, there was a tiny, high-pitched squeal, and then a perfect, round little head appeared in the world.
Damian’s eyes widened in amazement, and he exclaimed with tears, “Look how beautiful!”
Hands shaking, he lifted the baby from Kitty’s body and brought it up to her chest. The small slippery lump of flesh felt magical against her body. Was this a real baby? Had she really made this creature inside of her? Kitty felt overwhelmed by the beauty of this new life—with its delicate, fluttering eyelashes, tiny fingers, and rosebud lips. She started to weep softly as she looked lovingly into its eyes and whispered the words, “Welcome to the world, little baby boy. Welcome.”
FIFTY-FOURBILLIE ANN
The engine rumbled as I drove with the windows wide open. I raced in a fury through the streets, going back to Cocoa Beach, away from this place and all its bad memories.
I had been humiliated again, this time beyond repair. He had looked at me with such condescension, so sure of himself, so certain of what he could get away with. I had wanted to reach out and smash him in the face, to make him feel for just one second the heat of the fire that I was burning in.
But of course, I didn’t.
Instead, I had said nothing, swallowed my pride, and walked away. But the anger was still there. It bubbled up inside me like a pot of boiling water on the stove. I screamed loudly inside of the car. I was so angry, so furious it felt like my blood was boiling.
“That bastard,” I said, slamming my hands on the steering wheel. “That sick, sick bastard.”
I found some Joan Jett and turned the sound up, screaming along to “Bad Reputation.” I was angry at him, but also a little at myself for letting him get to me the way that he did. What had I expected? An apology? Him being remorseful or understanding? I knew better, but still had held on to some foolish hope.
The rage coursed through my body, like an electric current, making my skin hum and my heart beat faster. I was determined to take back control, to reclaim my strength and power. I would show him I was not afraid.
He had hurt me for the last time.
I had made it to the bridges when my phone rang.
“H-hello? Detective Wilde?” a small, still voice said.
“This is she, who is this?”
“My name is Darcy Mason,” she said, clearing her throat.
“What can I do for you, Darcy?” I said as I reached the top of the bridge and could spot the cruise ships at Port Canaveral in the distance, towering like the massive floating high-rises that they were.
“I’m… well, I work… worked for Dr. Henderson,” she said. “I have been debating whether or not to tell you this, but well… I think I should. The thing is that Dr. Henderson sometimes treated patients but didn’t put their files in the system, if you know what I mean.”
“I don’t, no. Please explain that to me.”
She exhaled. It was obvious she felt like she had betrayed her former boss.
“He had some patients, children, that he sort of treated for free. If they didn’t have insurance. Like children who are here with their parents illegally, or maybe hiding from an abusive ex.”
“Go on,” I said.
“And Emma Clemens was one of those who came under that category. That’s why her name wasn’t in the system. She was brought to him by a neighbor who knew Dr. Henderson. I don’t remember his name. I should have told your colleagues when they were here, but I just… I didn’t want to jeopardize—”
“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s understandable. But just so we’re clear, what you’re telling me is that Emma Clemens was Dr. Henderson’s patient?”
“Y-yes.”
