Chapter 35 Sera
Sera
The contractions hit like waves.
Sharp. Consuming. Stealing my breath. I'd read a million books on the subject of childbirth, and none described it like this. This is fast and furious, and I know something is horribly wrong.
I gasp, curling forward, one hand pressed to my stomach, the other braced against the bookshelf.
This is happening too fast. Way too fast.
Oh God.
"Gabe—" His name comes out strangled. "Gabe, please—"
"Shut up." He's pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth. The knife is still in his hand, blood dripping from the blade. "Just shut up. Let me think."
"The baby—" Another contraction. It's harder and longer, and I cry out, unable to stop myself.
Something is wrong.
This isn't how it's supposed to feel. The pressure is too intense. It's like my body is trying to tear itself apart.
"Please," I sob. "Please, you have to get me to a hospital. Something's wrong. The baby—"
"I can't!" His voice cracks. "Don't you understand? If I take you to a hospital, they'll call Adrian. They'll call the police. I'm dead. I'm fucking dead."
"Then I'll die here." The words come out flat. True. "Your nephew will die. Is that what you want?"
He stops pacing. Looks at me with wild, desperate eyes. "You think I want this? You think I wanted any of this?"
"Then let me go." I'm begging now. "Please, Gabe. Please. I'm your sister. I'm—"
"You stopped being my sister the day you married him!" He's shouting now, pointing the knife at me. "You chose him. You chose that fucking family. You left me."
"I didn't leave you—"
"Yes, you did! You married a monster, and you had his baby and you forgot all about me!" Tears are streaming down his face. "I needed you. I needed my sister. And you weren't there."
Another contraction. Worse than before. I can't speak. Can't breathe. Can only curl into myself and ride it out.
When it passes, I'm shaking. Sweating. My vision is blurring. I feel sick.
"Gabe." My voice is barely a whisper. "Do you remember the lullabies?"
He blinks. "What?"
"The lullabies. When you were little. When you couldn't sleep.
" I force myself to look at him. To see past the knife.
Past the blood. To find my brother underneath.
Gabe isn't evil. He can still be reasoned with.
"I used to sing to you." Tears are streaming down my cheeks.
They are mixing with snot and drool, and I know I have to look horrendous.
Not that I care.
My life is in Gabe's hands. My son's life as well.
"Sera—"
"Hush little baby, don't say a word," I sing softly. My voice cracks. "Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird."
"Stop." He waves the knife at me. I try not to think about where my missing flesh is.
"And if that mockingbird don't sing—" Another contraction steals the words. I gasp, gripping the shelf.
"Stop it," Gabe says, but his voice is different now. Quieter.
"You used to crawl into my bed," I continue when I can speak again. "When you had nightmares. Do you remember? You'd say the monsters were coming. And I'd tell you I'd protect you. That I'd never let anything hurt you."
He's shaking. It's so bad he can barely hold onto the knife. His eyes are wide, like he's strung out, and I can't help but wonder if he is.
Maybe, drugs are to blame.
"That's not fair—"
Tears stream down my face.
"We used to play in the snow. Remember? You'd make snow angels and I'd make snowmen.
And Mom would make us hot chocolate." I'm sobbing.
"You were my baby brother. I loved you. I love you.
Please, Gabe. Please." The contractions have slowed, giving me time to breathe, but I'm in pain, and I'm terrified that the moisture I feel leaking between my legs isn't amniotic fluid.
"Sera, don't—"
"I'm still your sister, Gabe. I'm still the person who sang you lullabies. Who chased away your monsters. Who took care of you when Mom and Dad died." I reach out my hand toward him. "Please. Please help me. Help your nephew. He's innocent. He doesn't deserve this."
For a moment, just a moment, I see it.
The softening. The crack in the armor.
Gabe's face crumples. The knife lowers slightly.
"I didn't want this," he whispers. "I never wanted to hurt you. I just—I was so scared. I am so scared." He wipes his face, looking at me with big eyes. "I don't want to die."
"I know." My hand is still extended. "It's okay. It's going to be okay. Just help me. Please. We'll figure it out together. Like we always did." I try to sit up. "If you get me to the hospital, Adrian will forgive you. He'll be grateful. I promise."
The lie tastes like ash on my lips because I know my husband. And as angry as I am with my brother, I can't help but still see that little boy in him. The one who curled up next to me asking for songs.
"I'm sorry. Sera, I'm so sorry—" Gabe reaches for me, and I know I've won.
The explosion shatters everything.
The front of the bookstore erupts in fire and smoke and noise.
Glass rains down. The floor shakes. My ears are ringing.
I'm thrown backward, hitting the bookshelf hard. Books cascade down around me.
I can't see. Can't hear. Can't breathe.
Smoke is everywhere.
And through it, I hear shouting. Men's voices. Orders being barked.
Gunfire.
Someone is shooting.
I curl around my stomach, protecting the baby, as chaos erupts around me.
And then—
Nothing.
Just smoke and noise and terror.
And the desperate, agonizing thought:
Adrian.
Please.
Find me.