She crossed her arms. “You know, women in this family don’t act helpless every time they get pregnant.”

I turned toward her. “I’m not acting helpless. I’m tired.”

Melissa laughed under her breath. “Tired? You’ve been using that excuse for months.”

I didn’t want to argue, so I picked up a tray and stepped onto the balcony to grab the extra soda bottles we had chilling in the cold. The moment I stepped outside, the sliding door slammed shut behind me.

Then I heard the click.

At first, I thought it was an accident. I pulled on the handle. It wouldn’t budge. Melissa stood on the other side of the glass, arms folded, watching me.

“Melissa!” I shouted. “Open the door!”

She leaned closer and said through the glass, “Maybe a little discomfort will teach you to stop being so weak.”

My stomach dropped. “Are you insane? I’m pregnant!”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s just a few minutes.”

The cold air cut straight through my thin sweater. I started pounding on the glass. “Open it now!”

But Melissa simply walked away.

The wind picked up. My fingers went numb first, then my feet. I kept banging, shouting, crying for Ryan, but music was playing inside and dishes were clattering. Minutes stretched endlessly. My belly tightened painfully, and fear began to claw its way up my throat.

Then a sharp cramp hit low in my abdomen, stronger than anything before, and my knees nearly gave out.

Part 2

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