"Help—someone, please!" "Pull her up! Get a cloth!" "Where is the midwife? Where is anyone?" "She pushed her," a voice spat from the lane. "Nora shoved her for a candy." Lena Han shoved past a crooked wooden cart and knelt beside the woman who sagged against the stone well. Blood darkened her skirt. Her breath came in sharp, torn pieces. "Hold her head," Lena said. "Keep pressure on the wound. Someone—run to the house. Bring the basin." "I did not shove her!" Nora Lian shrieked. She clutched a half-melted candy in her hand, the wrapper flapping like a flag. "It was crowded. She slipped." "Don't lie," an elderly fisherman said. He smelled of brine and an old net. "We saw you reach." "Stay back," Nora snapped. "Stay back from my business." Her eyes darted. The crowd narrowed. Her mouth trembled. Then she turned and ran toward the reed marsh as if she could vanish into the grass. "Call the midwife now!" someone ordered. A teenager slammed the lane gate against the dirt road and sprinted. Lena pressed a rag to the woman's belly where dark stained the coarse cloth. "What's your name?" Lena asked once, fingers checking for a pulse in a place that shouldn't have one. "Mei," the woman gasped. "Song Mei. It hurts—" "Tell me where it hurts," Lena said. "Talk to me." "Lower—left," Mei managed. Her voice trembled into a whisper. "Water—then blood—" "Don't talk about it