Page 99 of The Best Shot

The hallway seemed longer than it was, washed in hard white light, doors half-open on either side. The door to room six stood open, the privacy curtain half-drawn.

I pushed through it expecting monitors, movement, someone shouting instructions.

Instead…quiet.

CeeCee was in the bed, propped against the pillows, one hand resting on her stomach, the other loose at her side. A monitor beeped beside her.

Beside her, Shaun sat in a chair pulled close. Mama stood near the window, arms crossed, watching the readout.

I stopped just inside the curtain. The sudden absence of urgency disoriented me more than panic would have.

“CeeCee?” I crossed the room in three steps. “I came as fast as I could. The trail—I was on the mountain and I⁠—”

I broke off. Scanned her face, her hands, the numbers on the monitor. “Are you okay?”

She looked tired.

But steady.

“I’m okay,” she said softly. “They think it might just be Braxton Hicks.”

“Just?” I repeated.

“They’re still monitoring,” she said. “But the nurse thinks it’s probably that.”

I nodded, the tightness across my shoulders finally easing.

“Okay,” I said. “That’s good.”

“Shaun got there before the ambulance did,” she said. “He drove me.”

Shaun gave me a stiff nod.

“I called him,” I said, nodding back. “You were alone and I was too far away and I didn’t⁠—”

“Yasmine,” CeeCee said gently. “It’s okay. I’m glad you did.”

My mother came closer.

“You should have been here,” she said quietly. “Thankfully Shaun was there for her.”

“Yeah.”

His eyes flicked to mine again, and the phone call came back sharp.

His voice had been careful and flat when he answered. Yasmine. Like he was bracing for whatever I’d cost him this time.

Then I said CeeCee’s name, and all of that dropped out of him. A pause so short it was almost nothing and then, I’m on my way.

He reached for CeeCee’s hand.

She let him take it.

I took a step back.

The doctor came in ten minutes later, young and efficient, tablet already in hand. The exam was quick, and her voice calm as she explained it was Braxton Hicks, likely worsened by stress. The baby’s heart rate was strong, CeeCee’s cervix was closed, and there was no sign of preterm labor.

“We want to keep you for observation another hour or so,” she said, “but I’m not anticipating any complications. Make sure you’re drinking water. Rest when you can.”