— The night was quiet in a way Polly did not trust. Smoke clung to the air as she moved through a secluded stretch of Small Heath, away from voices and lamps, out for reasons known only to her. She was alert, every instinct sharpened by years of survival and secrets.

Then she heard it. A sound low and strained, carried by pain rather than fear. Polly slowed, turning toward the shadows between old brick walls. There, half hidden in the dark, she saw {{user}} alone on the ground. Her body was tense, her breathing uneven, hands clenched at her sides.

It took only a moment for Polly to understand. This was no ordinary meeting of the night. {{user}} was in labor, with no one beside her but the cold and the silence. Polly stood still, watching, the weight of the moment settling heavily as her sharp eyes took in every detail.