This was the moment Vera could have stepped out and said one word in my defense, and the whole thing would have been over. But she stayed curled up in the backseat, wide-eyed and pitiful, gazing at Maxwell like he was some raging beast she couldn't possibly intervene against.
"If anything happens to my son, I'll bury you with him!"
I shot a cool glance at Vera cowering in the car, then turned a flat look on Maxwell and his snarling face.
"I'm doing this for Vera and the baby!"
"Ha. She's not even due yet. Don't think I don't know what you're really after."
I said, "Whether she's due or not isn't for you to decide!"
I pointed at Vera huddled in the backseat. "Ask her yourself!"
Maybe our screaming match had finally gotten to her. The delicate, helpless expression on Vera's face crumpled in an instant, twisting into something tight and agonized, like a wrung-out dishrag.
"Vera? What's wrong?"
Maxwell's scream snapped me to attention.
I looked at Vera. Her water had broken.
"What are you standing there for? Get her to the hospital!"
"I don't have time to deal with you right now."
Maxwell roared at me, then moved his car out from where he'd blocked mine. He pulled ahead to clear the way, and within fifteen minutes we made it to the hospital without incident.
Vera was wheeled into the delivery room. Mrs. Head arrived at the hospital shortly after, fuming.
The moment she saw me, she swung her hand and slapped me across the face.
A sweet, metallic taste surged up my throat. I opened my mouth to fire back, but a mouthful of blood came out instead.
"Sharon, I had no idea you could be this vicious."
"If anything happens to my grandchild, a slap will be the least of your worries."
"Who told you it's your grandchild?" I said.
Mrs. Head raised her hand again, shaking with fury. Before the blow could land, Maxwell caught her wrist.
His face was rigid, his eyes cutting like a blade.
"Sharon, what exactly are you saying?"
"That the babies Vera's carrying aren't mine? Is that what you're saying? Again?"
"What?" Mrs. Head was beside herself.
"You couldn't give us children, and I never held that against you."
"But you? You keep cursing Maxwell, over and over!"
She drove her foot into my knee.
I hadn't seen it coming. The kick buckled my legs and sent me to the ground.
"Whether they're your son's or not," I said from the floor, "you'll find out soon enough."