ANNY
Jack Adams fills the doorway while Oliver’s voice comes through my phone.
“Anny? What’s happening?”
Jack looks toward the screen. One of the men behind him crosses the room, takes the phone from the bed, and throws it against the wall. The connection dies beneath the sound of breaking glass.
Maria does not move away from me.
“You will not touch her,” she says.
Jack enters as though the room belongs to him. Rain darkens the shoulders of his coat. Behind him stands another man and a woman carrying two medical bags. A mask covers the lower half of her face, but I see gray eyes and fear she is trying to hide.
Jack looks at the wet sheets and then at me.
“You were supposed to have six more weeks. We came to move you, not deliver the baby here.”
The surprise in his voice tells me t
