The clinic was quiet at noon. Dr. Vasquez had scheduled me for the last appointment before lunch. Private. No one else in the waiting room.
I was six months now. The baby moved constantly. Little kicks against my ribs. Sometimes I pressed my hand there and felt the shape of a foot. A heel. Something real.
Charli came with me. She always came now.
She sat in the chair beside me and scrolled her phone while Dr. Vasquez checked the measurements. The heartbeat filled the room. Strong. Fast.
"Everything looks perfect," Dr. Vasquez said. Her eyes met mine. Just for a second. "You're doing well."
I nodded.
We left through the side entrance. Charli said it was better for privacy. Fewer photographers.
The van was black. It pulled up before we reached the curb.
I stopped walking.
Charli kept going. She turned back. "Elyse? Come on."
The door opened. Two men got out. They wore dark jackets. Their faces were blank. They moved like people who had done this many times before.
One of them grabbed Charli's arm. She screamed.
The other one grabbed mine.
I tried to pull away. His grip tightened. He lifted me off the ground and shoved me into the van. I hit the floor hard. My hands went to my stomach.
The door slammed shut.
---
They separated us at the first stop.
Charli was pulled out. I heard her voice. High. Panicked. Then nothing.
The van started moving again.
I sat on the floor with my back against the wall. My wrists were zip-tied. The plastic cut into my skin. I counted my breaths. In. Out. In. Out.
The baby kicked.
I pressed my bound hands against my stomach. "I'm here," I whispered. "I'm right here."
---
The warehouse was old. Brick. Broken windows. The kind of place that used to make things and now just held air and rot.
They dragged me down stairs. Concrete steps. No railing. The basement smelled like rust and standing water.
A column stood in the center of the room. Metal. Bolted to the floor. They pushed me against it and tied my hands behind it. The rope was rough. It scraped.
One of them checked the knot. Pulled it tight. Then they left.
I heard their footsteps on the stairs. A door slammed. A lock turned.
Silence.
I tested the rope. It did not give.
Above me, a pipe dripped. Slow. Steady. The water pooled on the floor. Cold. It touched my shoes.
---
I do not know how long I waited.
The water rose. It crept up my ankles. My calves. It was so cold it burned.
I called for help. My voice echoed off the brick and came back empty.
The baby kicked again. Harder this time. Like it knew.
I closed my eyes. "It's okay," I whispered. "Someone's coming."
The water reached my knees.
---
I heard voices upstairs.
Shouts. Footsteps. Heavy. Fast.
Then Khai's voice. Sharp. Commanding. "Where are they?"
I screamed his name.
The water was at my thighs.
"Khai! I'm down here! Khai!"
More voices. Someone was talking about structural integrity. Load-bearing walls. Safe access to one floor only before the building collapsed.
"Charli's on the upper floor," a man said. "The other one's in the basement. Flooded. We can only extract from one location."
Silence.
I held my breath.
"Upper floor," Khai said. "Now."
Footsteps. Moving away.
I screamed again. Louder. My throat tore.
"Khai! Please! Khai!"
The footsteps faded.
The water reached my waist.
---
I stopped screaming when it reached my ribs.
My arms ached. The rope had rubbed my wrists raw. I could feel blood mixing with the water.
The baby kicked. Frantic now. Like it was trying to swim.
I thought about the magnolia tree. The time capsule. The letters I had written in handwriting he would not recognize anymore.
I thought about the jade bracelet on Charli's wrist.
I thought about the way he had looked at me in the hallway. Like I was a delivery.
The water reached my chest.
I tilted my head back. Tried to keep my chin above the surface.
My breath came in short, shallow gasps.
He chose.
The thought was clear. Calm. Almost peaceful.
He chose. Now I know.
The water touched my chin.
I closed my eyes.
The baby kicked one more time.
Then the water covered my mouth.
