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“Charlie, you won’t lose the baby. How many weeks are you?”

“Only thirty-six…”

I try to wrack my brain and remember something I had read on premature labor. At thirty-six weeks, the baby has a good chance of survival. The lungs, what about the lungs, brain? Fuck, oh yes, the lungs may be underdeveloped.

How is that helping right now? There’s no doubt about it, I’m panicking at the thought of her losing the baby, of losing Charlie.

This isn’t Chelsea.

I’m fighting with everything I have to save her. “Okay, listen to me, we’ll get through this. Do you have a blanket in the car?”

“In the back… don’t leave me, Julian. I’m so scared.” Charlie pulls my arm with the only strength she has left.

“Shh… I’ll quickly go get it.”

In record speed, I run down the hill to fetch the blanket, knowing there’s a chance the car could explode at any moment. I spot the blanket lying on the back seat. With the doors unable to open, I grab the rock beside my foot an

d smash the glass. Reaching in, I feel the jagged glass pierce my skin, but it doesn’t stop me from pulling the blanket through. I see a bottle of water and fetch that as well. With contents in hand, I run as fast as humanly possible up the hill and back to Charlie.

I see the calm set in her eyes until she clutches onto her stomach and screams in agony. The contractions are only two minutes apart. Oh God. Where the fuck is that miracle? I’ve never believed in God after Chelsea was taken away, but if anyone can make a miracle happen right now, it has to be the Lord Almighty.

Moving her hair away from her face, I examine the cut just below her hairline. It’s not too deep and shouldn’t be my biggest concern. It’s the baby now that needs saving.

“I need Lex… I need my husband…” she wails.

My heart aches as she calls his name, but she needs him, and I need to get him here along with an ambulance—anything to save Charlie.

“I’ll try to call him, Charlie.”

I yank my cell from my pocket, ignoring the poor signal as she whispers his number in short breaths. The phone rings out. I try again. I try ten fucking times until it picks up.

“Who the fuck is this, and what the hell do you want?” he answers coldly.

“Charlie… she’s been in an accident…” The crackling overpowers the phone.

“Charlie, what?” he yells.

“Charlie’s been in an accident!” The phone dies.

I need to reassure her—the stress isn’t helping the baby. The longer the baby stays inside, the better.

“Okay, listen to me… Charlie, you need to try and remain as calm as possible. 9-1-1 will track my cell, and I’m sure Lex will, too. They’ll be here shortly. We need to keep your baby calm, okay?”

She nods, understanding it’s the only thing we can do right now. I can see her eyes close, the fatigue overpowering her.

“Talk to me, Charlie. Tell me about when Amelia was born. Tell me about some of your happiest memories.”

I’m pulling out all the stops. She needs to remain conscious. If she doesn’t get through this, neither will I. She nods again, faintly. I hold her hand, trying to maintain contact with her, so she won’t fall asleep.

“I was terrified when Amelia was born because I had already lost a baby, Lex’s baby. I didn’t want to have to go through that again. Lex was calm… he was so calm. My grandmother came to me… she was there and told me everything was going to be okay. But she’s not here now, Julian. I don’t see her.”

Lex’s baby? Okay, now isn’t the time to delve into her history, but fuck me every which way, this now explains her ties with him.

“I see Chelsea a lot, too.”

My voice is quivering as I realize that this is it, this is going to lift the huge burden weighing on my shoulders. My heart, soul, every ounce of my being is caught up in a tangled mess as that déjà vu feeling consumes me. The image of paramedics arriving, the body bag being wheeled in front of me. Her parents arriving at the scene and hearing their excruciating screams surrounding us as they fought with the police officers and begged to see their daughter.

“She was the girl I fell in love with, but she died. Sometimes I see her… she talks to me. She watches over me like an angel. Yet, in my darkest times, I don’t see her, and I predict my death.”

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