Anton is with me, always with me.
The stairs and the hallway, such a short distance now feels endless. Down the hall, Moira's bedroom door stands open at the end.
Mom's voice drifts out, soft and soothing, in a way only she uses when things are really bad. "Breathe, sweetheart. Just breathe."
I push through the doorway.
Moira lies propped against a mountain of pillows, one hand pressed to her belly, the other holding our mother's hand. She groans, her face twisted in pain.
Mom sits on Moira's right side, stroking her hair with her free hand. Lorenzo stands on the left, looking like he might actually lose it. His knuckles are white where he's gripping the bedframe.
I stay at the foot of the bed, giving them space. But I'm here. When Moira needs me, I'm here.
"Fee." Moira's eyes find mine, and the fear in them guts me. "The baby's coming. I'm only thirty-two weeks."
Shit. I see the pregnancy books on her nightstand. I see a bookmark sticking out. She's been reading everything, worrying about everything, preparing for everything.
I move around the bed toward her. "What does that mean?"
"Most babies make it at thirty-two weeks." Her voice shakes. "But there can be problems. Breathing, development..." Another contraction hits, and she squeezes Mom's hand, her whole body tensing.
I slide in beside Mom, taking Moira's hand where it rests on her belly. "Hey," I whisper, catching her eye. "Focus on me, not all those terrifying numbers running through your brain right now."
She does.
"Right now," I continue, "Lorenzo is here. Mom's here. I'm here. And between the Carluccis, the Basovs, and the Quinns, we're going to find you the best doctor in this entire state. Hell, the best in the country. If they're not close, we'll fly them here." That gets a watery laugh out of her. "For you, I'll fly it myself if I have to."
She squeezes my hand. "You don't know how, Fee."
"I'll figure it out on the way."
This time, the laugh is real, even through the fear.
I lean forward and touch her belly, feeling how tight it is as another contraction follows. I wait it out until she's relaxed. "You're already causing trouble, kid. Your mom's barely surviving, and you're not even here yet." I look at Moira. "He's strong. Just like you. You both are going to be okay."
"My doctor was supposed to come." Moira's voice cracks. "She's amazing. But there was a car accident on the highway, and she can't get here."
"Then we'll find someone just as good." I say it like it's simple. Like I'm not terrified.
The door opens. One of Lorenzo's guys appears, slightly out of breath. "Boss. The hospital's ready. Private wing, everything secured. Medical staff for Mrs. Carlucci and the baby are standing by. The best staff we could find on short notice."
Lorenzo must trust this man because he only nods once, no words. Maybe he's trying not to explode in front of Moira. Either way, I'm thankful my brother-in-law is keeping his shit together.
The door opens, and Dr. Esposito rushes in, slightly breathless, carrying his medical bag. He looks anxious, probably had Lorenzo yelling at him, and drove like hell to get here.
"Mr. Carlucci." He nods at Lorenzo, his Italian accent thicker when he's rushed. "I came as quickly as I could."
"We're taking her to the hospital." Lorenzo's voice is tight, controlled. Barely.
"Of course. Let me take Mrs. Carlucci's vitals first. I can call ahead with an initial assessment so they're prepared when you arrive."
"No." Moira's voice cuts through the room. She looks at Doctor Esposito, then at Lorenzo. "I'm not letting a male doctor examine me."
There's a beat of tense silence.
"Is the doctor at the hospital a female OB/GYN?" Moira asks Lorenzo.
Lorenzo's jaw flexes. "I'll make sure it's a female doctor." He looks at his right-hand man standing in the doorway.
