It began as a dull cramp.
Emily sat at the breakfast table, sipping her decaf tea while Helen made her usual morning rounds, humming a lullaby as she folded freshly laundered onesies.
“Braxton Hicks again?” Helen asked gently, noticing Emily’s slight grimace.
“I guess?” Emily placed her hand on her belly. “It comes and goes. Probably nothing.”
But twenty minutes later, when she stood to stretch, she doubled over slightly, clutching the table.
Oliver jumped up from the kitchen island, nearly knocking over his coffee.
“Emily?”
“I don’t know—ow—I think… okay, maybe it’s not Braxton Hicks?”
Immediately, Oliver turned pale.
James, who was passing by the hallway with a bagel in his mouth, paused. “Wait. Is this it? Like, it it?”
“No, no,” Emily said, waving her hand. “It’s probably jus
