Page 244 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

The band shifts songs.

Someone nearby drops a crate of apples and swears loudly enough to make half the square laugh.

Normal.

Everything normal.

Until I turn slightly to reach for another paper bag and feel a sudden warm rush between my thighs.

I freeze.

The bag slips from my fingers and lands on the table.

Millie looks up immediately. “June?”

For one horrible, suspended second, I don’t move.

Because I know what’s happening.

Or I think I do.

My breath catches high in my chest.

“Millie,” I croak.

My voice makes her put down the tape dispenser very, very carefully. “What is it, June?”

I look at her.

Then down at the wet patch on the ground by the feet I can’t see. Then back at her.

In a whisper that somehow still feels too loud, I say, “I think my water just broke.”

Millie stares at me.

I stare back at her.

The whole world tilts.

Then she makes a sound I’ve never heard from another human being in my life, somewhere between a shriek and a battle cry.

“Oh my goodness.”

Immediately, three things happen at once.

The tourist couple backs away like I might explode.

Millie vaults around the side of the table.

And the men seem to have a sixth sense, because they all three come charging towards me.

“I don’t know if it actually did,” I say too quickly, panic hitting me in a wave so hard my hands start shaking. “Maybe I just… maybe I spilled something or…”

“June,” Millie says, gripping both my arms. “Did you spill something?”

“No.”

“Then we are not doing denial right now.”