The contractions tore through me, wave after wave of splitting agony.
My nails dug into the flesh of Benedict's palm. "Benedict, where are the doctors? There isn't a single doctor left? You promised me nothing would happen to our baby!"
All he did was squeeze my hand back, guilt written across his face. "The doctors are on their way. Just hold on a little longer, Phoebe. If it hurts, bite down on me."
On their way? Or were they too afraid to let me deliver before Vivian Chambers?
I swallowed the acid burning up my throat.
From the next room came Vivian's agonized screams. Naomi's head snapped toward the sound, and she barked at Benedict, "Relax, I'm here. She won't die. Now go check on Vivian! She's the one giving you a son. She's the one who matters."
Benedict hesitated, torn.
In the end, under my desperate gaze, he peeled my fingers off his hand, one by one. "Phoebe, I need to go check on Vivian."
I shook my head over and over, begging. "No. You can't leave me. I need a doctor. I need you."
He turned away, his expression pained. "I'm sorry, Phoebe. I promised Vivian I'd be there when her child was born."