The car races down the dark gravel road.
Trees press in on both sides, their branches reaching overhead like skeletal fingers.
The headlights cut two pale tunnels through the night.
In the back seat, Fae screams.
The sound is raw, torn from somewhere deep inside her.
Her body convulses with each contraction.
Her hands grip the leather seat so hard her knuckles have turned white. Sweat soaks her dress. Her hair clings to her forehead in wet strands.
"Something is wrong," Fae shouts between screams. "Something is wrong!"
Another wave of pain hits. She doubles over, crying out, her voice bouncing off the windows of the small space.
Maxwell drives with one hand on the wheel and in his other hand, he holds his phone to his ear.
The call connects.
"Dr. Yakato," Maxwell says. His v
