Page 41 of The Last Trip

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“Nothing. She’s just really active right now.”

“She must sense your stress.”

I nod. “We need to call the police.” I don’t add,Before I chicken out.

Later, when the police arrive, Janelle and I are separated in order to give our statements. During mine, a pair of EMTs check me over, examining the wounds on my neck and taking my blood pressure.

“Had Janelle Moon hit Calvin on the head before or after he choked you?” the officer asks, looking pointedly at his partner.

“After. I told you that,” I say.

“And what were you doing here in the first place? Did you follow Mr. Moon to confront his wife?”

“Of course not.”

“Had the two of you ever met before?”

I swallow. There’s no way to lie about this. “Yes. A few times. But I didn’t know who she was. I didn’t know they were married.”

If they look into it, if they see we were involved in the same classes, if they somehow find out she was at the cabin with usthis weekend, or that the two of us were texting daily in the weeks before I found out I was pregnant, I don’t know what it will mean. I don’t know if they’ll take our word over his.

The officers exchange looks again.

The EMT lowers the stethoscope. “Your blood pressure is way too high, which is putting you and your baby in danger. We are going to have to take you to the hospital.”

“Okay,” I mutter, fear trickling through my veins, overriding the discomfort in my stomach.

“We have to take her in,” the EMT says again, this time to the officers, not wasting any time as she helps me to my feet. “The rest of this will have to wait.” She places her hand on my stomach as it tenses again. “Oh. Did you feel that?”

“Yeah.” I wince. “She’s been rolling around a lot today. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“It’s happened a lot, then?” she asks, placing the stethoscope on my stomach, the other hand flat next to it.

“Yeah, it’s just random,” I say, but just as I say it, it happens again. I nearly double over, holding my breath. It’s not painful so much as uncomfortable. She’s getting too big for my stomach or something.

The EMT smiles at me sadly, drawing me out of my thoughts. “Sweetie, what you’re feeling isn’t her moving around. You’re in labor. Your baby is ready to meet you.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

HER — PRESENT DAY

When my daughter comes into the world, I am alone.

Technically, I’m surrounded by a team of doctors and nurses, none of whom I know, but in all the ways that matter, I am alone. The sounds of her cries are quite possibly the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard, instantly erasing whatever agonizing pain I was in before.

The doctor places her on my chest, and I stare down at her, searching for signs of myself. For proof that she’s mine, and she’ll always be mine. Tears blur my vision, smearing her image. She’s a screaming pink bundle of joy, and none of her features look anything like me yet, but they don’t look like Cal either.

Someday, when I look at her, will I see her father’s face?

A nurse asks if I’d like a photo of the two of us, and she takes my phone and snaps the picture. In it, I can see the bright purple outline of Cal’s fingers around my neck, proof that he almost made sure this moment never happened. Proof of everything he nearly stole.

The nurse asks if there are any family or friends in the waiting room I need her to get for me, but I suspect she already knows the answer as she smooths down my hair, her gaze flicking guiltily to my neck every few seconds.

“She’s beautiful,” she whispers, smoothing a hand over the baby’s head. “Congratulations, Momma.”

I smile, but the word still feels a bit foreign to me. Someday, I will be her momma, but today, I feel too lost to be anyone’s mom. Today, I feel too lost to be anything.

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