Page 20 of Sinner
“Gloria, I can’t condone this. I only saw seven children in the vision. You give birth and there will be eight, making everything I’ve seen about a safe escape null and void. Please don’t do it.”
Gloria hesitated and contemplated the needle in her hand. It was clear she was distressed, her head trembled from side to side, much like it had when Julius tried to force her to amputate a child’s limb. Her brows drew together and she took a shuddering breath.
“It was never supposed to be this way.” Tears welled in Gloria’s eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
A bang on the observation window drew everyone’s attention. The eldest female child had her palms and forehead plastered to the glass, looking at things she couldn’t possibly see through the mirror. She had long, dark hair like her mother. Flint inched his way closer. He sidestepped a lab station, and the girl’s eyes tracked him. There was no way she could see him, so how was she doing it? Flint made it to the window, and then the girl’s eyes snapped Gloria’s way.
“Despair,” Mary said, now next to Flint. “Even now she can feel our pain.”
A hiss made them turn to find Gloria inserting the intravenous needle into her vein. One handed, she taped it in place and the hung the bag on the hook above the medical gurney before collapsing on it herself.
“No!” Mary ran toward her, but it was too late, the oxytocin flowed into Gloria’s veins, inducing the labor. Gloria’s hand whipped to her stomach and she grimaced, feeling the pull of her first contraction. “Thy drugs are quick,” she whispered, already lost in another world.
Mary placed her hands on the medical bed and bowed her head silently, gathering herself. Despair hit the window again, clanging it repetitively. Flint turned to see a tear sliding down the girl’s face, and his throat closed up. This was all wrong.
“Flint.” Mary’s voice cut through his haze. All traces of her anguish replaced with cold hard determination.
“Yes?”
“We need to know if you’re in, or out.”
He glanced at the observation window. The girl still watched through the mirrored window, and behind, her siblings played unperturbed by what she sensed. A boy stood on the table, and another was on the floor preparing to catch him. There were discarded pillows and blankets all around to act as cushions. The toddlers crawled, putting the pebbles Mary had brought in their mouths. And the nun on duty checked her watch, waiting for Mary to start her shift. A sharp pain pierced Flint’s heart. They were just kids. Goddamned kids who didn’t ask for this.
“I’m in,” he said. “Whatever you need.”
