Chapter 23: Two Heartbeats, Two Cries

The first contraction hit Valeria at three in the morning, in the middle of a dream about a whale.

By four, she was in the back of Rodrigo's car, with her sister in the front seat holding a bag packed for two weeks.

"Breathe," Fabiola said. "Out. Out. I read it in a magazine."

"You read it in a magazine?"

"In the waiting room of the court. It was very informative."

Rodrigo drove with both hands white on the wheel, and he ran two red lights.

"They're early," he kept saying. "Four weeks early. They're early."

"They're thirty-six weeks," Valeria said between her teeth. "Which is on time for twins. Watch the road."

"I am watching the road."

"You are watching me in the mirror."

"I'm doing both."

Hospital Santa Lucía had its lights on at four in the morning, and the night desk was bright and almost empty.

The clerk behind the glass had a cardigan over her uniform and the same pen.

She looked up and saw a woman bent over, holding a man's arm, and her eyes went wide.

"Señora Escalante," she said, and was on her feet. "Your file is already open."

"I know," Valeria gasped. "You opened it."

"A long time ago." The clerk came out from behind the desk, and she was already waving at a nurse. "Chair, please. Chair, now. She's one of ours."

They wheeled her through the corridor, past the benches where a queue of women had once watched her husband say her name.

A few of them were there tonight.

An older woman looked up from her seat and clapped her hands softly together.

"About time," she called, and Valeria laughed through the pain, and it turned into a groan.

Brenda was waiting at the door of the delivery room.

She had a newborn strapped to her chest, two weeks old, sleeping with his fist at his cheek.

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