CATALINAThe pain crashes over me like a wave, raw, primal, and unstoppable. My knees buckle just as thunder rumbles overhead. I grip the edge of the sofa, gasping, unable to call out but knowing they’ll come. The storm outside is nothing compared to the one inside me. It’s no longer about waiting. This is now. This is real.The maids rush in, their eyes wide, voices firm yet gentle. I don’t remember who said what first, only that hands are holding me, supporting me, laying down towels and pillows like some sacred altar in the living room. The baby didn’t care for the birth plan or the hospital. She chose this moment, our home, our chaos, our storm.The wind howls, but all I hear is breath and rhythm. Push, breathe, cry, push. Someone’s rubbing my back. Someone’s wiping sweat from my forehead. I scream, then laugh, then cry again.The door bursts open and for a breathless second, I think he's finally here.But it’s not.Karen was soaked from the rain while her eyes were wide with pani
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