Evelyn
The first blow is so quick and shocking that I’m down on the ground before I fully process that Lucas punched me. Not a slap even. A closed-fist sucker punch to the face.
Strangely, my first thought is to avoid the nearby pile of my own puke.
Maybe it’s that trivial concern that gives Lucas enough time, before I can defend myself, to kick me in the stomach, too.
My subsequent concern is much more urgent.
Because I have the most precious thing in this world growing in there.
There’s no time to get up. All I can do is tuck into a ball to protect my child. I’m bracing myself for the next impact when I hear, “Evelyn!”
Emma’s cry is guttural.
But the sound of the knife tearing flesh that follows throws me into a panic.
I leap up and freeze. Emma is right in front of me, reaching
