fade down the driveway.— (Full Details Below p4

The heavy mahogany front door swung open. The rhythmic clatter of suitcase wheels rolled over the threshold.
From the porch, Pilar’s voice came—sharp, surgical, and utterly devoid of humanity: “Lock both deadbolts, Marcos. Let her have the baby quietly. Do not give her the opportunity to chase us to the airport.”
Click.
The metallic clack of the upper deadbolt sliding into the frame echoed through the silent house. Then the lower lock. They were sealing me inside, abandoned in active labor so they wouldn't miss a flight.
I lay on the cold stone, listening to the suitcases fade down the driveway.— (Full Details Below

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