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I needed the plastic off my face. It was choking me, trapping my own hot, terrified breath inside. Move, I ordered my right arm. Just lift. My brain sent the signal, but my fingers barely twitched against the coarse gurney sheet.

It felt like my blood had been replaced with wet cement, anchoring my limbs down. I forced every ounce of my remaining willpower into my shoulder, my bicep burning as I dragged my hand upward.

The movement was agonizingly slow, an uncoordinated jerk that scraped my knuckles against the metal side-rail. My throat tightened as I tried to speak, but the words didn’t have enough air behind them.

They dissolved into a wet, bubbling noise at the back of my throat. It was meaningless. Broken syllables that died inside the plastic dome. My hand finally reached the level of my chin. Move, I issued the command again.

This time my fingers trembled as they came into contact with the elastic strap. But before I could hook my thumb beneath it, my strength deserted me. My arm dropped like a stone, falling back onto the mattress, leaving me gasping and drowning in my own useless noise.

Soft sobs reached my ears. I twisted my head and opened my eyes. Tori’s tear-streaked face greeted me. My eyes closed once more, and the paramedic called my name. I hurt everywhere.

In a dreamlike state, I slipped from the ambulance to the castle. I was twelve again and on the playground in America. We were all there, exactly as we’d been that fateful day when I’d started my period. But instead of X being the one to help me, it was the Mask.

Something was very wrong. He was furious. This time with me. I had broken a rule and was going to be punished. The Mask towered over me.

No. Not the Mask. Hannah. The Mask. Hannah. Their faces blurred together until I couldn’t separate one from the other. Then I slipped from the castle to the storeroom.

A shoe crashed into my stomach. The air exploded from my lungs. Another kick landed. I rolled into a ball around my babies. The cramping and agony in my stomach brought a fresh wave of tears to my eyes.

I moved my fingers between my legs, and the wetness that greeted me was horrifying. I barely processed what that meant before Hannah violently kicked me in the stomach again.

Once she started, she didn’t stop. It was relentless, the force she used. As much as I tried to shield my stomach, I couldn’t. Hannah was unrelenting and brutal.

I couldn’t protect them. No matter how hard I tried. No matter how hard I begged. I couldn’t save them. Another rush of slick warmth flooded from between my legs.

The physical pain was indescribable. The way it spread from the back to the front. A scream tore from my throat as I tried to buck Hannah off me. She was straddling me now and screaming in my face.

Her weight pressed down on me, pinning me to the ground. Strong hands closed around my throat, cutting off my air. Panic gripped me, and I clawed at her hands, desperate for air, desperate to protect my sweet girls.

I tried to fight her off, but there was nothing I could do. My hair was ripped away and my head slammed against the ground. Once. Twice. Stars exploded behind my eyes, and the world faded away.

“Please.” The word barely existed. “You’re killing them.”

And then hands were cutting off my air again.

“I’m so sorry,” I whimpered as an image of Pasha flashed before my eyes.

A high, piercing wail cut through everything, dragging me up from somewhere deep and dark before I was ready. It grated on my nerves, echoing inside my skull until I couldn’t take it any more.

I flinched, or at least I tried to. My body didn’t listen. The world shifted beneath me, jostling in uneven movements that sent fresh waves of pain rolling through me.

“I—it hurts,” I managed, the words breaking apart as they left me.

And it did. Everything hurt. Arms, legs, head. My stomach tightened without warning, a sharp, crushing pull. Before I could even process it. Another wave seized me. It started low.

A deep, crushing pressure that wrapped around my back before tightening across my stomach with such force that I couldn’t breathe. I cried out. The pain stole every coherent thought.

Warmth spread between my legs.

“No.” The word came out broken. “No… God, please…”

Every one of my stomach muscles contracted, fighting against me. I couldn’t stop it. The blood kept pouring out of me. Warm and endless. It was so wrong.

“They’re okay,” I whispered.

I don’t know if I was talking to myself. To Tori. To the paramedic. To God.

“They have to be okay.”