Chapter Sixteen

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The car screeches into the car park, the smell of car fumes burning in my nostrils

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The car screeches into the car park, the smell of car fumes burning in my nostrils. Connor slams into the nearest space, the car lurching to a stop. He rushes out of the car, his face tight and fearful as he runs around the car to open my door. Another contraction hits me and I'm panting hard. I feel the heat creeping into my face as my hands cup my belly. Sweat is crawling down my spine and sticking my hair to my forehead.

"Annie, we need to..." Realising what's happening, he drops to his knees and takes my hands. I hold them tightly, trying to focus on anything but the pain. "Everything's going to be OK."

"What if it's not? What if..." Words fail me as fear overwhelms everything. I'm drowning in it.

"You're OK, we're here now." He points to the entrance, at a wheelchair just visible through the glass doors. "I'm going to grab one of those chairs and we're heading in. I'm not leaving you, OK? I'm not going anywhere." His words are cool, measured and I feel them forcing calm into me. My breathing slows. He goes to stand, but I grip his hands tighter.

I flinch. And look up at the hospital. It seems miles away, but it's not just my own fears of what's coming that's gripping me tight. Stopping me from taking a step towards it.

"You have to go. You're going to miss the sentencing, you're going to..." I bite my lip as the pain gets too much. His face twitches, but then he smiles. And it's a true Connor smile.

"I'm going to prison, no matter what happens. Nothing can stop it now. I'm not leaving you, Annie. If they want me locked up so badly, they can come and drag me away. They're welcome to try."

I nod slowly. I'm still worried about what's going to happen to him. But I'm selfish right now, fearful and in pain, and I want him here with me.

"Come on, we need to..."

"I'm glad you're here," I say weakly as the contraction finally subsides. His face softens, and he bites his bottom lip. He looks to the ground for a moment, and I know he's holding back his words. When he looks up, his eyes hold mine for a long time.

"Come on, beautiful, let's get you in there." Gently, he touches my elbows and guides me up from the car seat and leads me towards the hospital doors.

***

Everything is a blur of medical jargon, the sickly sweet scent of disinfectant and people ushering me in and out of rooms. Connor never leaves my side, even as they try to lure him away. He glares at them harshly when they try.

I'm surrounded by people in scrubs, talking in hushed tones to each other as they arrange the monitor by the side of my gurney. The room is a small consultation room, with posters about breastfeeding on the walls, an old computer on a cheap-looking desk and curtains throwing shadows across the space. The contraction grips me, and I'm whimpering loudly as I cling to Connor's hand tightly. His face is close to mine, and he's whispering words of comfort in my ear, taking the edge of the chaos surrounding me. I gasp as the cold jelly is slapped against my belly, and the instrument travels across my skin. As they hook my belly up to a monitor and all crowd around the screen.

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