She wondered what it would sound like if he chose to unleash it into the world. If instead of being absorbed by the bag, he had howled it into the black air. She crouched down lower so that he could not see her. When he turned back around, she caught a glimpse of the anger and despair in his eyes, so deep it almost made them appear hollow. The air got heavier to breathe and she felt clumsy and thick, but it was only a few steps back to the house and she knew she could make it without him spotting her. She turned and began to walk, but something made her freeze in place. Her breathing came more sharply now and each breath stung her lungs. She closed her eyes and willed what was about to happen to stop. No, she thought, please, not now. She clenched her fists and ground her teeth, but there was no ­preventing it. It started as a dribble, built into a stream, and gushed down her thighs. Within seconds she realized . . .

There was no going back.

“Push!” the nurse hissed, squeezing so hard her long red fingernails dug into Therese’s palm. Her legs were in stirrups and her head was propped up. Every few minutes Nurse Red Nails shouted at her to push. With every contraction, her insides would crush, and she wondered if soon they would just come spewing out of her. Someone in the room told her to breathe. Instead, she screamed a sharp and angry wail that filled her mind with sound and made the hurt finally stop.

Then there was calm. She clung to the seconds of relief and convinced herself it would be over soon. A few more pain-free minutes passed, and her mind wandered to thoughts of Tim. After her water broke, she had fallen to the ground with the first contraction. He heard her and came running out of the shed. She could tell by the way he touched her that he was frightened. “Is it time?” he asked. She nodded. He lifted her from the ground and carried her to the car. She had felt his heart beating in his chest and had tasted his sweat on her lips. Salty. Like the ocean.

“I want a drink,” she whispered. Her throat was sore and her voice was hoarse.

“Sorry, dear. Best I can do is some chipped ice.” The red nails came close to her lips and slipped the ice into her mouth. They felt like cold pebbles. She kept them on the tip of her tongue, willing them not to melt too fast. She closed her eyes and was back in the car with Tim.