ENSHROUDING LIGHT

THE NIGHT OF LIGHT

CHAPTER 1

THE NIGHT OF LIGHT

The moment Nevaeh stepped onto the delivery suite, the muscles in her calves began to twitch. It wasn't the midwives rushing past, their eyes on full alert, or the unlit corridor. It was more than that. A cold air that had nothing to do with temperature was lurking, and it left her rooted to the spot.

Icy fingers clawed their way from the nape of her neck to her lower back. They only pounced from the shadows whenever something ominous was approaching, prompting her to run. And she usually did; they'd saved her from many dangerous situations. If they were here, then she shouldn't be!

But her waters had broken.

Icy fingers or not, there was no way she could leave. Fighting an incredible urge to flee, her gut twisting and fluttering its own intuitive warning, she lifted her hand to catch the attention of one of the midwives, but they rushed past.

Great, she was invisible!

She let out a frustrated sigh. This was definitely a first. Having waist length, rainbow coloured hair made her all but inconspicuous. All her life she'd felt like she was being watched, glances here and there from strangers, some smiling at her for her creativity, some scowling for her plain weirdness; she'd never been overlooked. Not that it bothered her; it was just ironic for it to happen now, the one time she actually wanted attention.

A static noise emanating from the ceiling brought the next midwife to a halt, but she merely held onto the opposite door handle, bracing herself. More icy stabs attacked. She needed to run!

As lights began to crack and spark and a deep rumble shook the ground, she held her stomach tight, preparing for the worst. The vibrations through her cheap, slip-on shoes tickled her feet and made her want to scream. She held it in. Thankfully, after one long, drawn-out fizzle, the whole outburst ceased.

As if she possessed no duty of care, the midwife rushed away, leaving her with the desolate, morbid corridor as her only company.

Her twitchy muscles returned. She must run! She gazed toward the midwife long after she'd disappeared, wondering how to walk unaided, let alone run. If anyone was watching, she probably would've looked like a timid kitten, but her lack of movement was due to her slim frame, barely capable of carrying her large, round bump, which made it hard just to put one foot in front of the other. Add contractions to the mix, and she wasn't about to rush anywhere. I didn't matter that she was only five foot four inches with permanent pink cheeks that made her look too young to be having a baby; she was far from timid! Her intuition always served her senses, not her feelings.

She was too young, though. Well, so her mum kept telling her; her dad was just thankful she at least waited until she'd left school at sixteen, unlike some today. "Have an abortion," her mum suggested, "the baby will leave you in a mess!" Like she could've even considered it—all she'd ever wanted was a baby. This was just one of the reasons she hadn't phoned her mother.

Pain surged through her stomach, and she lowered herself to the cold floor. Taking a deep breath, she rocked back and forth on all fours, trying to ease into the tightening bouts. She pressed her lips together, cutting off the flow of blood to shift the focus of pain, and watched her wavy hair mopping the tiles, gathering particles of who knows what.

How dirty was this floor? If this was where she would give birth, she needed to know. How on earth was she even going to pull it off? Pull down her leggings and just...go for it? The baby would land on the cold, hard floor, bang its head and—

A midwife with radiant, mocha skin stepped out of a bright doorway at the opposite end of the corridor, the light in the room behind creating a vivid aura.