I gasped, my fingers digging into the cotton sheets.

“Avery?” Arthur asked, his face pale. “What is it?”

“The baby,” I whispered.

I felt a sudden, warm rush of fluid beneath me. The sheets grew wet.

Arthur looked down, his eyes widening.

“I will get the nurse,” he said, turning toward the door.

“Arthur,” I called out, my voice shaking. “Make sure… make sure the guard stays at the door. Even if Callum is locked up, Vivian is still out there.”

“I will,” Arthur said. “I will handle it.”

He ran out into the hallway, his shouting voice fading.

I lay back against the pillows, my breathing shallow and fast.

The room seemed very large and very quiet now.

My phone on the bedside table buzzed, the vibration loud against the wood.

I reached out with a trembling hand and picked it up.

The screen showed an incoming call from an unlisted number.

I slid my thumb across the glass and held the phone to my ear.

“Avery,” a woman’s voice said. It was smooth, dry, and entirely devoid of emotion.

It was Vivian Prescott.