I sit, leaning back against the wall, Charlotte cradled in my arms. She, lying between my knees, is supported against my chest. Her rib cage pressed to mine, her heartbeat thumps through me. And the breath in her saturated lungs rattles as she breathes.
When it really comes down to it, what can I do to help her? Other than keep her warm? Help her feel safe? While she gets on with doing what women have done as long as there have been women; delivering our children.
She relaxes back against me, panting as her most recent contraction eases.
I curve around, kiss her cheek. “How do you feel now?”
Klempner glances back.
She struggles to turn, head twisting round as far as she can towards mine. “Feel?” she screeches. “How the f**k do you think I feel? It’s like someone's trying to scoop out
