The bus wheezed to a stop with a hiss of compressed air. You helped Eli climb aboard, watching his face twist into that half-sweet, half-miserable grimace he’d been wearing all week. He was 9 months pregnant with twins, and everything—everything—was a challenge now.

He shuffled slowly down the aisle, one hand rubbing the underside of his massive belly, the other gripping your arm.

“I swear,” he muttered, “if this bus hits one more pothole, the twins are going to come out wearing seat belts."