“Nothing will happen to the baby,” I whispered, brushing a kiss against his cheek. “We’ll be together. That’s all that matters.”
He hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod.
I exhaled, pressing my hand against the swell of my belly.
We would go to Peru before this wretchedlife eventunfolded, before I was forced to become something I never wanted.
And maybe, if fate were merciful, the child wouldn’t survive the journey.
Zara wouldn’t punish me for an accident.
Would she?
Chapter 37
Alina
Iwas so entranced by the ancient excavation site in Peru that I almost forgot I was pregnant. The arid breeze carried the scent of scorched earth and dust, while the midday sun spilled gold across the cracked ruins that surrounded us. Time felt warped here—ancient, sacred.
“Let’s call it a day,” Jack said, walking beside me.
I ignored him, scraping a garden trowel across the dirt, my focus laser-sharp on the spot before me.
“Nothing,” I muttered—weeks of digging and still nothing significant. My nerves were fraying. “Hand me the broom.”
Without looking up, I stretched out my hand.
Jack sighed, slipping off his backpack and rummaging through it before placing the whisk broom in my palm. Then, wordlessly, he slung the pack back onto his shoulder.
I swept the loosened dirt, squinting at the ground as if willing something—anything—to appear.
“Nothing. Nothing. Nothing!” I snapped. “Endless days of scraps and dust. If I don’t find something soon—if I go home empty-handed—I’ll… I’ll…” I trailed off, frustrated and breathless. “I don’t even know what I’ll do.”
Running a hand through my tangled, dust-caked hair, I turned to Jack, finally giving him my full attention.
He opened his mouth to speak.
But then I gasped.
A slicing pain tore through my abdomen. My hands flew to my belly as my knees buckled slightly.
“What is it?” Jack asked, his voice rising in alarm.
“Shit,” I gritted out, bracing myself against a nearby wall. “It’s nothing. Just—just a cramp.”
“Are you going into labor?” he asked, panic flaring in his eyes.
“I don’t think so,” I groaned, trying to breathe through the pain. “I’ve been having false labor all day.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? We need to leave. Now. You could be going into early labor?—”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jack,” I said with a forced, wry smile. “Braxton-Hicks. They’re normal in the second or third trimester. Just my body practicing. The baby’s not due for another month.”
But even as I rested my hand on my belly, the ruins stretching endlessly behind us, a single thought ran through my mind?—
What if this wasn’t just a rehearsal?
Jack’s face turned ashen. “What if you go into labor out here? We’re stranded in the middle of nowhere, Alina. No signal, no roads, and our only connection to civilization is a dusty ham radio miles from the nearest village. What if it’s too late by the time we get help?”
