She shoved me hard. I hit the ground, and a sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen. Not a bruise. Not a cramp. Something deeper. Something wrong. Dread flooded through me instantly, cold and total, like ice water poured into my chest. I gritted my teeth and dragged myself up, bracing against the wall to stay on my feet. My hand pressed against my stomach. My fingers were shaking.
She swung at me, her palm connecting with my face. "You hit me? You think I'm someone you can push around? Those three slaps? I'm paying them back double!"
She raised her hand for a second strike, but footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. Multiple sets. Heavy. The sound of men returning.
Her arm froze mid-swing.
The rage vanished from her face so fast it was like watching someone change channels. In one fluid motion, she snatched the baby from the bassinet, dropped him onto the floor from a low height, then threw herself down beside him, curling over the infant and wailing as if the world were ending.