Elsbeth.
The air was suffocating. I couldn't breathe.
My chest tightened with each breath, the constriction deepening the further we moved into the dark tunnel. The pain from the contraction hadn't completely faded, lingering in the background like a jagged stone scraping at the edge of my consciousness. I felt shaky, unsteady on my feet, the force of the labor and the fear pressing down on me like a weight I couldn't escape.
Each step I took felt like a battle in itself, my legs unsteady, trembling beneath me, and yet there was no room for hesitation. There was no time to slow down.
Every breath felt like it scraped my throat, and yet my body—my instincts—pushed forward. My hands reached out, gripping the cold, jagged stone of the tunnel wall for support, the texture of the stone rough against my fingers, the chill of it grounding me in this moment, keeping me tethered to the reality of our situation. My fingers ached with the effort, but I needed it. I needed to keep going.
