Buried Betrayal on Eight Hundred Acres 34

impatient, irritated boredom.

“Vitals?” he snaps, stepping up to the foot of the bed.

María stammers, handing him my chart. “BP is 85 over 50 and dropping. Fetal heart rate is decelerating with contractions. We need to move.”

He flips the file open. His eyes scan the ink.

Then, he finally looks up. His gaze travels from the chart, over the mountain of continue reading …