The roar of the train swallowed the air. Emma tried to push herself up, but her body refused to move. Panic surged through her chest. She curled her arms protectively around her stomach, tears blurring her vision. People on the platform shouted, but their voices felt distant—warped by terror.

Then—footsteps. Heavy, fast. A shadow leaped down from the platform.

A man in a navy-and-gray conductor’s uniform sprinted along the gravel. He grabbed Emma under her arms and hauled her upward with a single, powerful motion. The train screeched as he yanked her toward the platform’s edge, the metal wheels blasting past only inches away. They collapsed against the concrete, both gasping, alive.

Emma’s hearing went fuzzy, her vision darkening. Pain shot through her abdomen.

Her water had broken.

Everything after blurred: voices, alarms, the conductor shouting for paramedics, the rush into an ambulance. The world faded in and out until she woke to hospital lights and a nurse’s gentle smile.