Stephanie Munguia

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Akara tells everyone else to stay off comms, leaving the channel open for Farrow. “Here,” Farrow says, a little crackly but audible. “How far apart are her contractions?” “I think every minute or so.” I peer back underneath her skirt. Oh shit. I speak softly into the mic. “I can see the start of a head.”
Unlucky Like Us (Like Us, #12)
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