My Water Broke

"Elena?"

The voice was familiar in a way I couldn’t quite explain — like a song you’ve heard before but can’t name. It didn’t feel threatening, at least.

"Elena, can you hear me?"

"Yes," I said quickly. "But I’ve lost nearly ten years of memories. I’m sorry — I don’t know who you are."

A sharp curse came through the line, followed by something almost wounded in his tone. "You really don’t remember me?"

"Your voice feels familiar, but I can’t place it."

"What about Lewis? Did you forget him too?"

I answered honestly. "I know he’s my mate, but everything between us is just... gone."

The moment I said it, a sound erupted from the other end — loud, unrestrained laughter.

"Hahaha! Lewis, this is your reckoning! She forgot me and you! And I was the one who found her first!" The man sounded genuinely delighted, completely out of step with the danger I was sitting in. I wanted to remind him that this was not the moment for triumph, that I needed help — not commentary.

"Could you help me contact—" I started, but a second voice cut through. Low. Rough. Unmistakable.

"Elena. Are you okay?"

My nose stung the instant I heard it, and tears were already sliding down my face before I could stop them. I knew it was him. My mind had erased him, but something deeper hadn’t. Something older than memory — an instinct that lived in my bones. The moment his voice reached me, something inside me unlocked all at once.

"Carl — is that you?" My voice cracked.

"It’s me, Elena. It’s me." He sounded exhausted and anxious, the urgency barely contained. I could hear it — days of sleeplessness, days of searching — so I gave him only what mattered. "I’m okay. Sergio hasn’t hurt me. He’s restricted my freedom, but that’s all. We’re hiding on a small island."

"I’ve already tracked your location," Lewis said, steadier now. "I’m on my way. Twenty minutes, Elena. Just twenty minutes."

Twenty minutes.

Something warm and fierce surged in my chest.

"You have my little bunny to thank for that," the first man announced, smug as ever. There was another voice now — female, sharp.

"There you go. Couldn’t resist bringing that up, could you? Creep."

"Come on, say thank you."

"Pervert."

Then her tone flipped completely, bright and breathless as she spoke to me. "Elena! It’s Riley. Do you remember me? Please say you remember me. I’m so sorry — if I hadn’t asked you to come get me, none of this would’ve happened. Have you been eating? Are you cold? Has he hurt you? Why do you always end up surrounded by absolute lunatics?"

She didn’t pause long enough for me to answer.

"It’s my fault, all of it. I swear I’ll never ask you to pick me up again. I already lost Whitney. I can’t lose you. Just hold on — we’re coming."

When she finally stopped, I got a word in. "Riley. I’m fine. I haven’t gone hungry. I’ve actually gained about twenty pounds."

Most of it was the pregnancy — but I hadn’t lost weight, and my face looked the same as it always had.

"Carl," I added quietly, "if you find Sergio, please don’t hurt him. He’s... he’s not what he seems. He’s a broken person."

Lewis was silent for a beat. Then, softly: "Alright."

"Are you serious, Elena?" Riley erupted. "Do you have any idea what Lewis has been through? And now you’re asking him to spare the man who took you? You—"

Footsteps. From the stairwell. Fast.

"Shh." I dropped my voice to almost nothing. "Someone’s coming. Don’t say anything."

"Elena — twist the left ear. There’s a mute button."

I found it and pressed it. Their voices vanished, but I knew they could still hear everything on my end.

The footsteps were quick and heavy. My pulse jumped. I reached for the pistol and knife Sergio had left before he went out, then chose the knife. I didn’t trust myself with the gun — not now, not like this. I pressed myself behind the door, grip slick with sweat.

Sergio’s footsteps had a rhythm I’d learned without meaning to. This wasn’t him.

"Ms. Morrigan." A man’s voice from the doorway. "Plans have changed. We need to go now. There’s a mole — the organization knows where we are."

It was one of the bodyguards. I’d seen him around Sergio, though we’d never spoken directly.

"Where’s Dr. Zimmer?" I asked. I trusted Sergio more than I trusted this man.

"Boss is held up. He’s dealt with the mole, but our location is burned. He sent me to take you to the port. Someone will meet you there, and he’ll follow as soon as he can."

Lewis was twenty minutes out. The organization was closing in. Sergio wasn’t here.

I needed to stall — or at least move.

"Okay," I said.

I gathered myself, one hand braced at my side, the other cradling my stomach, and moved as fast as I could manage. For every five steps I took, he needed two. "Ms. Morrigan, you’re too slow. Let me carry you."

Before I could argue, he bent down and lifted me, moving quickly toward the exit.

Maybe it was the fear that had been building since last night. Maybe it was the running and the cold and the weight of everything at once. But as we came up out of the basement and I saw a body slumped near the door — the so-called mole — the sight of blood sent images screaming through my mind. Severed heads. Explosions. Things I’d seen and couldn’t un-see.

And then the pain hit.

A sharp, deep cramp tightened through my abdomen. Then another. Then another.

"Stop — put me down. Something’s wrong with my stomach."

"Ms. Morrigan, there’s no time! Hold on just a little longer — if they catch us, it’s over! We’re almost at the port!"

Then I felt it. Warmth, spreading down between my legs.

Everything I’d read over the past few months came back to me in a single, terrible instant.

"That’s amniotic fluid." My voice came out barely above a whisper. "My water just broke. Put me down. I’m in labor."

Why now? The stress, the fear, the running — it had been too much. My body had decided it was time, whether I was ready or not. The contractions were coming faster, harder, and I could feel the babies beginning to descend.

"Put me down!"