She was heavily pregnant.
Eight months at least.
“Hey,” Marcus said gently as he crouched beside the broken window. “Stay with me. Help’s coming.”
The woman turned her head slightly toward him. Her eyes struggled to focus but held an intensity that made it clear she understood exactly what was happening.
“My baby,” she whispered.
Marcus reached through the broken glass and carefully took her hand.
“You’re gonna be alright,” he told her.
But she shook her head slowly.
Her fingers tightened weakly around his.
“Promise me something,” she breathed.
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