Doña Graciela let out a dry laugh.
“Oh, please. She’s been saying the same thing for days. She always needs attention when someone else is about to enjoy themselves.”
Another contraction made me fall to my knees.
“I’m not pretending,” I cried. “Call an ambulance.”
At that moment, I felt my water run down my legs and onto the floor. Ivonne lowered her phone, frightened. Mateo took a step toward me, but his mother grabbed him by the arm.
“The Uber is here,” she said. “If you miss that flight because of her drama, don’t ever call me Mother again.”
Mateo clenched his jaw. He looked at me from the doorway.
“Lucía, try to calm down. We’ll be back in a week.”
“A week?” I screamed. “Your daughter is being born!”
Doña Graciela opened the door and said without trembling:
“Lock it well. Both locks. Don’t let her go out and make a scene with the neighbors.”
And Mateo obeyed.
I heard the first lock. Then the second.
I stayed on the floor, soaked, trembling, while the wheels of their suitcases rolled away down the sidewalk.
But when I tried to drag myself toward my phone, I saw a shadow behind the patio window.
Someone was forcing open the back gate.
I couldn’t believe what was about to happen…
PART 2
The pain made me see white spots, but fear kept me awake.
I dragged myself across the cold floor, leaving trails of water and light blood as I tried to reach the phone on the coffee table. Every centimeter felt endless. Outside, cars passed as if nothing was happening, as if there wasn’t a woman locked inside that house about to give birth.
