The first sensation was the cold, a deep, penetrating dampness that leeched the heat from my heavily pregnant body. It was an earth-cold, metallic scent mixed with something sickly sweet, like disinfectant trying to mask decay.

I opened my eyes. Everything was blurry, dark. My head was throbbing where I’d hit the marble floor, and the chemical anesthetic still coated my tongue. I was lying on a thin, stiff mattress, and the ceiling above me was low, concrete, and weeping moisture. I wasn’t ...