The lull was the worst. It had been hours since Damon last entered the cell, hours since I had successfully stalled him with financial jargon and fought the agony of the contractions that now came with brutal, clockwork regularity. The medical team, two frightened, quiet women and a doctor who avoided my eyes, had been in and out, checking my vitals, but never speaking to me directly. They were prisoners, too, just with better uniforms.

The darkness felt heavier now, intensified by the low, ...