Samantha’s POV
The cryptic message stared back at me from my phone screen, the words twisting in my mind like a knife. “Congratulations, Samantha. You’ve come so far. But the past always catches up.”
I didn’t recognize the number, but the intent was clear. Whoever sent it wanted me to know that my fight wasn’t over. The peace I had worked so hard to carve out for myself felt as fragile as glass.
I was about to call Sisco when I felt it—a sharp, sudden pain low in my abdomen. My breath hitched as warmth spread across my legs, soaking through the fabric of my dress.
I looked down in shock.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, my heart racing. My water had broken.
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Panic and adrenaline surged through me as I grabbed my hospital bag from the corner of the room. I fumbled with my phone, dialing
