A rainy night makes the city look like a broken mirror.
I’d been driving for ten hours before I saw her on the corner of the main avenue, soaked, one hand on her stomach and the other desperately raised.
I approached, and before I could say anything, she opened the back door.
“Please, please,” she begged. “I need to get to San José Hospital. The baby’s coming.”
She was young, maybe twenty-five, her face contorted with pain. Her cheeks were wet, although I couldn’t tell if it was from the rain or her tears.
“Get in, get in,” I said. “Relax, we’ll get there.”
I started quickly, but carefully. She was breathing deeply, trying to control her contractions.
“What’s your name?” I asked, trying to keep her calm.
“Carolina,” she answered between gasps. “Oh God, it hurts so much.”
“It’s almost time, Carolina. Breathe like they taught you, okay?”
“I didn’t go to class,” she said, her voice cracking. “I couldn’t… I don’t have anyone…”
