“That’s what everyone keeps saying!” I snap, fear making me irrational. “But this doesn’t feel like ‘taking its time.’”
There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Then: “Row, listen to me. I know I’m the last person you want to hear from right now, but I need you to trust me. Can you make it to the bedroom? Somewhere comfortable?”
I struggle to my feet, one hand supporting my enormous belly. “I’ll try.”
Moving is harder than I expected. Each step feels precarious. My body is no longer my own—it’s a vehicle, a very uncertain tool for a very messy job. I make it halfway to the stairs when I hear something that stops me cold.
A car engine. Then another. Coming up the long driveway to the estate.
“Someone’s here,” I tell Natalie with blind hope. “Maybe it’s Vince…?”
“Don’t
