Chapter 19: Too Early

Nolan's POV

The monitor on Avery's belly made a fast, soft knocking sound.

I had been counting it for forty minutes.

One hundred and forty, one hundred and forty-five, one hundred and thirty-eight.

The doctor, a short woman with reading glasses on her head, studied the paper strip that fed out of the machine.

"Contractions every eight minutes," she said. "The baby's heart rate looks good."

She turned to Avery.

"Mrs. Tunstall, we're giving you a drug to slow this down, and some fluids. We'll watch you for the afternoon."

"Is the baby coming?" Avery said.

"Not today, if I can help it. Thirty weeks is early, but we handle it every day."

Avery nodded and gripped my hand.

She had been gripping it since the ambulance.

She did not cry, and she did not let go.

The doctor left.

A nurse hung a bag from a pole and taped a line to the back of Avery's hand.

"Stay as calm as you can," the nurse said. "Stress makes them worse."

"I'm trying," Avery said.

"I know, honey."

I stood up so quickly that the chair scraped.

"I'm going to get water," I said.

I walked down the corridor, and then I walked faster.

I pushed through the door marked STAIRS and let it swing shut behind me.

There was nobody on the landing.

I put both hands against the cinderblock and leaned my forehead on the wall.

For four months I had held a hundred small lies in my head and kept a straight face.

For three weeks I had kept my voice level through board dinners and swab lines and my father's threats.

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