3.

Gilbert came back from the room across the hall and tossed a pair of cotton slippers down by my bed.

"Julia, get up and change your shoes."

For a second I thought he'd finally remembered I was the one who was his wife. Before I could say anything, he went on.

"Selma's slippers have thin soles. Trade with her. Wear hers."

I stared at him. "She can't catch a chill, but I can?"

His face darkened. "Why are you making a thing out of something this small? It's just shoes. You're not even leaving the room."

My sister heard that and put her hands on her hips.

"Did a door slam on your head? Her feet are two sizes smaller than my sister's. How's she supposed to walk in them, all cramped? And couldn't Selma have brought her own thick socks?"

"My sister didn't bring extra shoes either. The slippers she's wearing now she had to borrow from the nurses' station. You want her standing on shoes that don't fit for three hours?"

Gilbert pinched the bridge of his nose, irritated, and there was a threat in his voice.

"Julia, I'll add a couple layers of insoles for you later. Don't make me come change them myself. If it comes to that, this becomes a very different situation."

My eyes went to Selma, smiling in the doorway.

The thick wool socks pulled up on her feet were the ones I'd gotten last month, specially, for Gilbert's night shifts, so his feet wouldn't be cold on his rounds.

When it was my turn, all that was left were two thin insoles.

I braced myself against the edge of the bed and pushed upright, sitting straight.

"Gilbert, I'm not changing these shoes, and I don't need you for the delivery either."

He blinked, then let out a cold laugh.

"Julia, are you done? We're husband and wife. If I'm not the one looking after you, who is? Besides, you've got no money, no job, no connections. Apart from me, your free labor, who else can you afford?"

I saw the mockery in his eyes, and all that was left in my chest was the drop of disappointment.

But in the beginning it was him who'd said his woman shouldn't have to go out and slave for money, that people would laugh at him for being useless, that he would provide for me.

"I mean it."

Beside us, Selma suddenly cut in.

"Gilbert, I don't want to force Julia either. I'll just make do in socks, it's fine."

Then she pretended to bend down and take off the shoes.

Gilbert panicked at once. "Selma, don't, I'll come put them on for you!"

Then he pulled a long face and glared at me.

"If you have to throw a fit, at least look at the timing. You're about to give birth and you pick now to make trouble. You don't need me? Fine, then sort yourself out."

"Whatever happens during the delivery, don't call for me. But these shoes, you're changing them, no question."

He hurried over to Selma and crouched in front of her, carefully loosening her laces, his voice going soft.

"No patience at all. Such a willful little baby."

"Having a child is like a woman being reborn. She has to be comfortable. It means everything goes smoothly after, a whole life of good fortune."

I watched it, and it hurt.

Same act, putting on shoes, and for me there was nothing but cold words.

For Selma, he was all tenderness.

And he had no idea he was doing it.

As Selma and I passed each other in the corridor, she suddenly pulled her foot back and cried out loud.

"Julia, just because you're upset about the shoes doesn't mean you get to step on me. That really hurt."

Gilbert rushed to help her sit down, then slapped me across the face.

"Julia, what is wrong with you? I'm the one who asked for the swap. If you've got a problem, take it up with me. Was it really necessary to start something at a moment this important for Selma?"

My sister rushed over to catch me, and my back slammed into the bedside cabinet, the edge digging in sharp even through the hospital gown.

4.

I held back my sister, who wanted to fight for me, and said in a wronged voice.

"There's a camera in this ward. Go to the nurses' station right now and pull the footage. Let's see whose foot actually stepped on hers."

"So now you've learned to deny it too!"

Seeing me refuse to admit it, Gilbert boiled over with rage.

But the moment Selma heard the word footage, her face froze, and she tugged at his sleeve.

"Gilbert, let it go. The nurses work hard enough as it is."

"Maybe I clipped the corner of the wall when I turned. You know how bad my sense of direction is. I might have blamed Julia by mistake."

"One thing after another today. I don't know, maybe it's this body of mine that keeps drawing trouble."

She said it while sliding her eyes over toward me, every word hinting that I was clumsy and rough.

Gilbert gave a small nod and let it drop, but the look he turned on me was still displeased.

I honestly didn't want to spend another second looking at these two, so I just shut the ward door.

I'd had less than ten minutes of peace before Gilbert shoved the door open and barged in.

He clamped a hand around my arm, his face taut with urgency.

"Julia, there you are. Finally."

Hearing that, my sister shot me a startled look and raised her eyebrows.

I knew what she was hinting at, but I didn't have a shred of feeling left for Gilbert now.

Sure enough, he opened his mouth.

"Selma's friend can read the signs of an unborn baby. She says the one in your belly has too much heat to it, and it clashes with the girl Selma's carrying."

"Now Selma's been thrown off by you, the baby won't settle, keeps stirring. You have to come sit at her bedside so the balance evens out and steadies her. Come with me right now!"

I didn't want to, but Gilbert dragged me to Selma's ward anyway.

A crowd stood at the foot of Selma's bed, and on the floor sat a basin of murky mugwort soaking in talisman water.

They watched me with their brows knit tight, as if I were something filthy.

Selma lay on the bed with a pained look, hand over her belly, moaning softly, as if her baby really were restless inside her.

"Julia's here. What do we do next to fix it?" Gilbert asked anxiously.

Selma's friend jumped in at once.

"First step. We take the mugwort soaked in incense-ash water and whip it across her. The harder the better. That's how you drive her heat off her clean, so she won't disturb Selma's baby again down the line."

I hadn't even processed it.

Gilbert's coworkers and friends, along with Selma's friend, had already grabbed fistfuls of dripping mugwort and were swinging them down over my head and face.

My sister tried to lunge over and shield me, but they had the numbers and pinned her down flat, even clapped a hand over her mouth.

They boxed me in the middle, the mugwort lashing my cheeks and neck, rank and wet.

The stalks dragged across my face and left endless streaks of blood.

My hair was yanked loose, bits of shredded weed stuffed down the collar of my hospital gown, and every inch of exposed skin burned like it was on fire.

I threw my arms up to guard my face and screamed at Gilbert.

"Gilbert, have you lost your mind? This is all backward superstition!"

He stood beside Selma's bed, letting her lean against his side while he slowly rubbed her belly for her. He turned his head to me and spread his hands.

"With something like this, better safe than sorry. I'm not gambling with Selma and the baby."

"Besides, your parents are still rotting in prison. Someone who comes from roots like that, how clean could she possibly be?"

5.

I froze where I stood.

My parents went to prison for a crime when I was very young, and I was sent to an orphanage.

Every kind of cold look and contempt there, I had taken it all.

Even after I grew up, plenty of people who thought themselves righteous called me the spawn of convicts, some to my face, some behind my back.

Gilbert was the one who stepped up and spoke for me, condemning that behavior in front of everyone as low and vile.

I thought I had finally met my prince.

I never imagined it was only a long, beautiful dream.

And now the dream was over.

Soon the whole basin of mugwort was spent, and that friend of Selma's spoke up again.

“Good. Now Julia slaps herself a hundred times, and with each slap she says she's a jinx, that she deserves to bring ruin down on people.”

“A full hundred, and the energy she's forced onto Selma won't dare stir up trouble anymore. It'll be gone for good.”

The commotion had drawn out a crowd of family members from the other new mothers on the floor, come to watch.

Hearing this, one older woman who was there caring for someone couldn't hold back.

“A hundred slaps? Will her face even be any good after that?”

“The girl looks pitiful enough already. Ease up, don't actually get somebody killed. The rest of us are staying here too.”

Seeing the hesitation cross Gilbert's face, Selma's eyes went red at once.

“Gilbert, my friend just told me, if this energy isn't cleared out, I, I could lose the baby in the womb.”

“Do you want something to happen to our child? I'm going into labor in less than thirty minutes. If I die, that's fine, but our baby……”

Gilbert cut in quickly. “Don't talk like that.”

Then he looked at me and dangled a promise.

“Julia, be reasonable. Once you finish these hundred slaps, I'll have them start your epidural, so you don't have to keep gritting your teeth through it. By the time I'm done with Selma, it'll be right about when you deliver too. All right?”

I let out a scoff.

“Gilbert, stop dreaming. It's not up to you to order me around when I want to do something.”

Gilbert's face darkened.

“Julia, you chose this road yourself. There's not much time. If you won't do it, then I'll just have someone do it for you.”

He shot a look at his coworkers and friends.

They started to lunge at me, to pin my arms and force my own hands against my face.

But before they could lay a finger on me, every one of them was kicked flying.

They hit the floor screaming.

Several people in white coats appeared out of nowhere and closed in tight around me, shielding me.

The next moment a coat, still warm from a body, wrapped around me.

My ex, Nolan Graves, crouched down and touched my cheek, blaming himself.

“I'm sorry, Julia. It took me this long to get to you.”

I smiled at him. “No. You came at exactly the right time.”

He drew my gaze to the window. Parked at the hospital entrance was a private-hospital ambulance, its doors thrown wide, every piece of equipment inside ready.

Nolan lifted me into his arms.

“Come on, Julia. You're delivering at my hospital. The best delivery suite, the best anesthesiologist, everything is set for you.”

I'd wanted out of this awful place for a long time. I nodded. “Let's go.”

Nolan set me down on the mobile stretcher, and just then Gilbert came running over.

He was in a rage.

“Julia, our baby is about to be born, and you're running off with this man? To where?”

“I don't care who he is. I order you to get back to that room right now!?”

Gilbert tried to drag me off the stretcher, but the second his hand reached out, Nolan seized it and squeezed until the knuckles cracked.

Gilbert doubled over on the spot from the pain.

Nolan's voice was ice-cold.

“From this moment on, the baby in Julia's belly has nothing to do with you. Everything about her delivery, I'm taking over.”

“Lay one finger on her and whichever hand you use, that's the hand I take off. I mean every word.”