My mother saying, “Richard—”
The violent crack of something hitting metal.
The world tipping backward.
For half a second I didn’t understand what had happened. My chair jolted so hard from behind that my body flew with it. The balance was gone before my brain could catch up. My hands reached for nothing. I remember seeing the chandelier upside down. I remember Daniel shouting my name. I remember the edge of the tablecloth sliding through my fingers as I tried to grab it.
Then I hit the floor.
The impact stole the air from my lungs.
A white-hot bolt of pain shot through my lower back and exploded across my stomach. My head snapped against the hardwood. For one impossible second the room seemed to disappear, all sound sucked inward. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. My belly had taken part of the fall. I knew it before I even processed the pain.
Then something warm flooded between my legs.
A gasp rippled through the room.
I looked down.
Fluid was spreading fast across the polished floor beneath me, clear and shocking and unmistakable.
My water had broken.
Noise came crashing back all at once.
“Oh my God!”
“Call 911!”
“She’s pregnant!”
Daniel dropped to his knees beside me so fast he almost slid in the water. “Emily. Emily, look at me.”
I tried. I really tried. But my vision kept blurring in and out. There was pain in my abdomen now, deep and tightening, not like the practice contractions I’d been having for weeks. This was real pain. Dangerous pain.
“My stomach,” I whispered. “Daniel—”
He put both hands on either side of my face. “Stay with me. Stay with me, baby.”
Someone screamed. It took me a second to realize it was my mother.
