Chapter 17 - Birth in the Chaos
There was no time to move her. There was no time for an epidural or a sterile delivery room.
Eleanor threw off her expensive suit jacket, rolling up her silk sleeves. She knelt on the floor covered in shattered glass and bullet casings, positioning herself between Claire's legs.
"Look at me, Evie!" Eleanor commanded, her voice cutting through the gunfire with absolute, grounding authority. "You are safe. I am right here. You are going to push!"
Claire sobbed, her body wracked by an incredibly violent contraction. She gripped the edge of the marble island, bearing down with everything she had.
The sirens of dozens of Chicago police cruisers began to wail loudly from the streets far below, growing rapidly closer.
The remaining attackers, realizing their window of escape was rapidly closing, began to fall back toward the compromised elevator shafts.
"Push, Evangeline! Push!" Eleanor encouraged, tears streaming down her face as she prepared to catch her grandchild.
With one final, desperate, agonizing scream that drowned out the sound of the retreating gunmen, the baby arrived.
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A loud, healthy, furious cry echoed through the ruined penthouse.
Eleanor wrapped the tiny, wriggling infant in her expensive suit jacket, pulling the baby safely against her chest.
