Page 135 of Savage Surrender

She smiles at the old nickname. “You inhaled seawater yesterday. You can be fine while I listen to your lungs and check a few things.”

Freddie arranges a blanket over my shoulders before I even realize how frigid they keep the temperature in their house.

Their home smells like cinnamon and clean laundry, and the dryer thumping in the next room is weirdly normal.

“I have cinnamon rolls in the kitchen if any of you want one,” Clara says conspiratorially. “This baby has given me a hell of a sweet tooth. The guys have gained more weight than I have.”

I laugh. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

Clara listens to my lungs while Winston hovers over her shoulder. She checks each scrape and bruise without turning any of them into a disaster.

“Everything sounds clear. Any coughing? Tightness? Trouble catching your breath?”

“Nothing.”

“Good. If that changes, even a little, you tell somebody.”

“Thank you, but I’m good. Promise.”

Clara lifts her head and stares at me expectantly.

“Fine. I’ll tell you.”

Megan is sitting in an oversized chair by the front window with her phone held against her chest.

“Megan gave me a suppressant,” I tell Clara, “but I don’t think it’s going to work much longer.”

Her attention shifts back to me. “What are you feeling?”

Clara takes my wrist while I give her the short list. Hunger. Cramps. Then her hand returns to her stomach. The movement is so natural I almost miss it.

“How’s the baby?”

Her mouth softens, and her hand settles more firmly over her stomach.

“Good. Everything looks good so far.”

“Are you scared?”

Clara’s mouth opens, then closes. “Yes. Sometimes.”

“Of being pregnant or after?”

“Both, but excited too. Why?”

“Just curious.” I pick at a loose thread in the blanket. “I don’t think anyone would trust me with something that fragile.”

Freddie’s fingers close around mine, and Winston leans over the back of the couch. “That’s horseshit, sis. You’re at the top of my list for possible babysitters.”

“Wait.” I look from him to Clara’s stomach. “You have a list? I’m on it?”

She smiles warmly. “Of course, silly.”

The word babysitter makes the cramp low in my stomach sharpen for an entirely different reason. “I really don’t want to get pregnant during this heat.”

“Are you on anything?” Clara asks.

“No. The plan is condoms.”