My stomach dropped. My eyes darted to Nate, who was flushed red with alcohol.
I turned on him, my voice shaking with anger.
"You are drunk?! How could you drink?! Our child—!"
Nate stammered, his face guilty but defensive.
"How was I supposed to know this would happen?! You know I don’t usually drink!"
My heart sank.
I didn’t have a driver’s license. There were no taxis in this remote countryside.
And today was Memorial Day. Everyone had been drinking.
Except for one person.
Julia.
She was pregnant. She must have stayed sober.
I shoved my daughter into Nate’s arms and rushed back inside.
Julia was lounging against her husband, acting coy. When she saw me storm in, she barely spared me a glance before turning away.
I knew she wouldn’t agree easily. So I begged.
"Julia, please—can you drive us to the hospital?"
She blinked at me, feigning innocence.
"Ah? Can’t my brother-in-law take you? I mean, I am pregnant."
I clenched my fists. "You’re the only one who hasn’t been drinking! I’m begging you—just this once!"
Before she could answer, my aunt stepped in, blocking me with a gentle, practiced smile.