Then the gun. The sound. The force hitting my body.
I fall backward.
Then the river takes me.
“Tell them about the warehouse,” I say.
“There’s no warehouse here,” the man says. “Jesus where did you come down from?”
No warehouse? Where am I? How far did I drift down from the place where I was shot? It’s a blessing and a curse, but probably the reason Dmitri couldn’t find me and finish the job.
“It’s a miracle you’re still alive,” the stranger tells me. “When I saw you like that, I thought you were…” He doesn’t finish the sentence. He leans closer. “Miss, stay with me.”
“My husband,” I whisper.
“He’ll be called. Just stay awake.”
“No. He doesn’t know.”
My teeth begin to chatter. I can’t stop them. My whole body shakes against the concrete, half from cold, half from pain. The man takes off his jacket and spreads it over me, pressing one hand near my side.
I cry out.
“Sorry,” he says quickly. “I’m sorry. I have to stop the bleeding.”
The pressure makes the world blur.
I grip his wrist weakly. “My baby.”
He freezes. “What?”
My hand moves to my stomach.
Not my side. Lower. Protective.
Terrified.
“My baby,” I say, louder this time, though it tears my throat. “I’m pregnant.”
His face changes completely. “Okay,” he says, too fast. “Okay. I’ll tell them. Don’t move.”
“Is my baby okay?”
“I don’t know. The ambulance is coming.”
“Please.”
“I know. I know.”
He doesn’t know.
No one knows.
Panic rises so fast I almost choke on it. I try to sit up, but pain slams me back down.
“No, no, no,” he says, pushing me gently but firmly. “Stay down.”
“I need to know.”
