The pain was unlike anything I'd ever experienced.

It was worse than the silver torture, worse than the fire that had scarred me as a child. This was pain that came in waves, building and cresting and crashing over me until I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but survive it.

"Another contraction coming," Maya said, her hand on my belly. "Breathe, Delilah. Deep breaths, just like we practiced."

We hadn't practiced, I wasn't supposed to give birth for another two months. ...