Shelter from the Storm. RaeAnne Thayne

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      Served her right for coming just as the nurses were giving report. She could hear them in the lounge as the night shift caught the fresh blood up on their caseload.

      She smiled at the janitor but he still didn’t meet her eye so she gave up trying to be nice and began looking for Rosa’s chart. Probably in with the nurses, she realized, and went to the lounge to ask if they were done with it.

      “Here it is. She had a very quiet night,” a tired-looking nurse said, handing over the chart. “No more contractions and I peeked in on her about an hour ago and she was sleeping soundly.”

      “Thank you.”

      When Lauren returned to the desk, the janitor was gone. She spent a moment flipping through the chart, pleased with what she saw there. Her vitals were stable and her pain level seemed to be under control. The few times she had awakened, she had seemed calm and at ease.

      Lauren didn’t want to wake her patient, but she also didn’t want to leave after coming all this way without at least checking on her.

      As she paused outside the door to her room, a strange whimpering noise sounded from inside and her heart sank. Despite what the night nurse had charted, maybe the mild painkillers Rosa had been treated with weren’t quite cutting it.

      She pushed open the door to check on the girl, then gasped.

      The horrific sight inside registered for only about half a second before Lauren started screaming for security and rushed inside to attack the man who was trying to smother her patient.