The doctor trying to save my life in the delivery room was my ex-husband—the same man who left me pregnant in the rain. What I told him made him stumble back.

They find a host, and they drain it.”

I had stood there, trembling, my hand resting instinctively on my still-flat stomach. I had told him I was late. I had told him we needed to talk about the future.

And Nicolás Herrera had laughed.

It was a hollow, cruel sound that I still heard in my darkest nightmares. “Do not try to trap me with a bastard child continue reading …