Japheth
I liked to think that being a farmer, I had more knowledge and experience about birth than the average man. I’d delivered many sheep, cows and horses. I’d even had my hands inside of the mother animals, assisting with difficult births.
But seeing the soaked sheets, knowing it was beloved in labor, knowing all the dangers and complications, my heart seemed to stop in my chest. Everything moved into high-speed focus. Regina was doubled over, her face pale and etched with a pain that made my own chest ache. But the sound from downstairs—that guttural, primeval roar from Otis—was the sound of a predator meeting a threat.
“Call 911 Reggie. We need the police, and an ambulance. Tell them there is an intruder, and your water broke.” I said, my voice dropping into that low, flat tone I
