Throwing the sheet off me, I realize that my legs are in fact wet. Not only was that the worst dream in the world, but also, I’vegone and peed myself? When it rains, it pours, huh?
I touch it, horror winding through my gut, and I brace myself to see blood on my fingertips.
But it’s not that, either.
It’s clear. It’s thin. It’s watery.
“Oh my God,” I breathe as my unease turns to a cautious excitement. “It’s time. The baby’s coming.”
I lurch out of bed so fast that I almost tip over. I throw on all the lights and then grab my phone and call Dmitri with tremblingfingers.
“Come on, come on,” I beg to my empty room. “Pick up!”
I cut the line and call him again. No answer.
I repeat the process until it becomes cripplingly obvious that he isn’t going to pick up. Now what? Gripping my bel
