"Rachel," I said quietly, "if you need me to stabilize the process, there's no better time than right now."
Her body stiffened, shoulders rising, her hands pausing mid-motion as though every muscle had frozen under the weight of my words. She knew exactly what I meant; there was no mistaking it.
"H…here?" She whispered, her voice small, almost shy.
"It's cramped, sure," I admitted, my eyes roaming the narrow pharmacy backroom where shelves hemmed us in. "But it's just us. No one's going to walk in. Not your sister, not the others. It's safer here than anywhere else. At home we'd risk too much, and I don't want to drag this out. You've already felt the first symptoms."
My tone softened then.
"If we wait, the pain's only going to worsen."
Her lips parted but no words came. She was caught between hesitation and necessity. The blush painting her cheeks betrayed both her embarrassment and her understanding.
"I… I know you're right," she finally breathed.
