The sun crested over the snow-capped mountains just as we pulled into Diana’s driveway. Loki opened the backseat door before I’d even slammed my Subaru into park, and he was on Diana’s doorstep before I could unbuckle my seatbelt.

Diana’s front door opened slowly, spilling golden light into the cold, early morning air. She looked enormous and unforgiving in the doorway, with her arms crossed over her formidable chest. I couldn’t believe I’d ever mistaken her for human.

Loki fell to his knees on the hard-packed snow. “Artemis,” he said, his voice jagged. “Help my wife.”

The car door opened behind me and Caroline stepped out, resting heavily against the roof of the Subaru. None of us moved or spoke. Diana’s eyes traveled over me to Caroline, hunched and panting behind me, and finally came back to Loki, kneeling in the snow.

“Please,” Loki said. The word sounded like it had been ripped from his lips.

Diana’s expression grew even colder. “If I do this, you will be in my debt,” she said.

“Of course,” Loki said, through gritted teeth.

Diana stepped around him to Caroline, extending her arm. The barest hint of a smile flickered across her lips, although I couldn’t tell if it was welcoming or victorious. “My dear,” Diana said, “please come inside.”

Caroline hesitated. Her eyes darted to Loki. When he nodded, she took Diana’s arm. Together they walked toward the cabin. Loki stood and stepped out of their way, but Caroline stopped in front of him.

“My husband comes too,” she said.

Diana shook her head. “That’s ridiculous.”

Caroline dropped Diana’s arm and reached for Loki. Their hands locked together. “Then I don’t want your help,” she said.

There was another long silence, broken only when Caroline gasped and doubled over, grabbing her side. Loki wrapped his arm around her waist. His fire-red hair rippled as a gust of wind shook a glittering cascade of ice crystals from the pines.

Diana spat a long stream of thick, greasy words that could only have been curses before shaking her head and opening her front door. “Fine,” she hissed. “Come in.”

Loki and Caroline walked in together, arm in arm.

Diana turned to me. “You too,” she yelled. “I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

Trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I followed Loki into Diana’s cabin.

“Karen, to the kitchen,” Diana barked when I walked through her front door. “There’s food, water, juice. Bring it all.”

I nodded and turned down the hallway. Diana’s fridge was disturbingly well-stocked, especially for someone who lived two hours away from the nearest grocery store. I filled a few plates with cheese, crackers, and grapes, poured glasses of water and juice, and arranged them all on a gleaming silver tray I found leaning against Diana’s coffee maker.

An enormous fire roared on the hearth when I entered the living room. The huge glass-eyed taxidermied animals stood sentinel as Caroline and Loki embraced by the fire, their bodies rocking together. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and his hands pressed into the small of her back. I had to turn away.

I stood like that with Barry. With that thought I was back in Chicago, back in the sterile hospital room, surrounded by the beep and glow of machinery, holding my husband and trying to breathe as the birthing contractions ripped my body apart.

“Thank you, Karen,” Diana said, taking the tray from my hands.

I shook my head to clear the memories. “No problem. Anything else I can do?”

Diana glanced at Caroline and Loki. They could almost be lovers, slow dancing in the middle of Diana’s living room. “Stay close,” she said. “The baby’s coming fast.”

I leaned against the doorway and felt rather useless as Diana held a glass of orange juice to Caroline’s lips. Caroline drank it in hesitant little sips, then collapsed against Loki, her eyes closed and her head resting on his chest.

Diana knelt in front of them, closing her eyes and running her hands over Caroline’s stomach. She nodded, stood, and whispered something to Loki. A moment later Caroline’s back stiffened and she moaned, burying her face in Loki’s chest.

“Breathe,” Diana said. “Try to relax.” Then she turned to Loki. “Get her out of her clothes. I’ll bring a robe.”

Caroline whimpered, and Diana walked back to me. “Get the towels,” Diana whispered. “Down the hallway. Second door on the left.”

“Yeah, sure. How many?”

“All of them!” Diana snapped.

I stumbled into the hallway. It felt absurdly good to be away from the heat of the fireplace, so I leaned against the wall and took a few deep breaths, trying to process this crazy morning. When I felt slightly closer to normal, I looked for the second door on the left. It turned out to be a linen closet smelling vaguely of cedar and stacked with a rainbow of towels. I grabbed as many as I could carry and around.

Then I heard the first scream.

When I got back to the living room, Caroline was on her hands and knees on the polished wood floor, a long, dark robe draped over her back. Loki knelt next to her, their faces so close they could be kissing. Diana was rubbing her back. I suddenly felt embarrassed. I was trespassing, after all; I hardly knew these people. I had no right to be here—

“Towels!” Diana barked.

I jumped to obey, dumping my armful of towels next to Diana. The air in the living room now carried the iron tang of blood mixed with wood smoke from the fire, the heavy scent of sweat, and the thick, animal smell of amniotic fluid.

“Here,” Diana grabbed my wrist and pulled me to my knees. “You. Rub her back. Right here.”

She guided my hand to the base of Caroline’s spine and pushed. I followed her lead, digging my knuckles into the soft fabric of the robe and pushing on the knotted muscles beneath. Caroline’s body was shivering in long, slow waves.

Diana rocked back on her heels and reached between Caroline’s legs. “The baby’s posterior,” she said, “but she’ll flip around. In the meantime, it’s going to be... uncomfortable.”

Caroline whimpered again, almost a sob. Loki leaned close to her, their cheeks pressed together, and whispered soft and low in her ear.

“This wasn’t...the plan,” Caroline panted. “I wanted...painkillers. All the painkillers.”

Despite myself, I laughed out loud. Even Diana smiled.

“You’re going to be okay,” I said, pressing my hands into the hard muscles of her lower back. And, for the first time since I saw Caroline doubled over against my kitchen counter at two this morning, I actually believed it.

“I’m repositioning the baby,” Diana said. “It’s going to feel a little strange.”

Caroline nodded, her long, dark hair sticking to her forehead. Diana moved her strong hands quickly over Caroline’s stomach and between her legs, pressing in ways that were uncomfortable to even watch. Caroline winced but didn’t cry out. Once Diana declared the baby properly positioned, she told Caroline to stand up and walk.

Loki helped Caroline to her feet, and together they made a slow circle around the living room, pausing every few seconds while Caroline’s body stiffened and rippled with another contraction. After about ten minutes, Caroline fell to her knees in front of the fireplace with a low, grunting moan.

“It’s time,” Diana said. She spread towels across the floor and helped Caroline roll onto her back.

Loki knelt behind Caroline, his arms around her chest, her face resting in the hollow of his neck. Caroline’s breathing was fast and shallow, and her eyes were glazed.

“Karen, get over here,” Diana ordered. “Hold her leg.”

I knelt on the towels, trying to avoid the pool of blood spreading from beneath Caroline’s body as I braced her leg against my shoulder. I tried to find somewhere to look that wasn’t the mess of blood and hair between her legs, or her face pressed against Loki’s cheek, his lips touching her forehead.

“Good,” muttered Diana. “Very good, Caroline. Now, push when you feel the—”

Caroline’s body tensed, and she screamed in a high, animal cry. Her leg bucked and kicked against my shoulder. Then she fell back against Loki’s chest, whimpering.

“I’m here,” he said. In the flickering light of the fire his lips and cheeks looked odd, like they were covered with thin, pale streaks. “I’m here with you,” he whispered.

“Good, very good,” Diana said, running her hands along the curve of Caroline’s stomach. “Keep pushing.”

I glanced down, following Diana’s hands, and I saw the baby’s bright pink scalp beneath the dark mess of wet hair pushing to enter the world.

“Once more,” Diana coaxed.

Caroline cried again as her leg kicked hard against my shoulder. The baby’s head emerged, pale, waxy with vernix, and streaked with blood; for a heartbeat the world held still as I stared at the tiny, squished little face and thought how odd, how incredibly odd it is to have life, any life, anywhere.

Caroline moaned, and the baby’s shoulders emerged. Diana wrapped her fingers around the child as the rest of the tiny body slid into the world, wet and wrinkled and purple. The infant filled her little lungs and shrieked. Her cries of protest reverberated off the walls and filled the world.

“A girl,” Diana sighed.

She placed the child gently on Caroline’s chest and rocked back on her heels, wiping her hand across her face. I lowered Caroline’s leg and watched the infant, the tiny new life who just entered this world.

The baby girl’s sobs turned to gasps and grunts as Caroline and Loki wrapped their arms around her tiny body. The blood-streaked umbilical cord stopped pulsing, and the baby stared groggily around the room, her cloudy blue eyes unfocused in her wrinkled face.

Loki bent to wipe the blood from her hair with his palm and kiss the furrows of her tiny forehead. “Adelina,” he whispered.

“Adelina Lokisdóttir,” Caroline said.

I looked up. They were both crying. I wiped my cheek and realized I was crying, too. My stomach lurched violently. It was far too hot in this room. I turned away from the new family and stumbled to my feet. The room spun around me, and I braced myself against the wall. Don’t. Don’t think about—

No good. I ran down the hallway, ripped open Diana’s front door, and staggered outside. The cold hit me like a sledgehammer, bringing fresh tears to my eyes. My vision blurred as I staggered to my car, doubled over in the snow, and vomited.

I fell to my knees, sobbing, my body doubled over and heaving, the cold air ripping my throat with each ragged gasp, an ocean of tears cascading to the snow.

Meredith.

Her name burned in my chest. Meredith Richardson.

My girl. My baby girl.