It all started with Joy.

Chapter 1: It's not all fun and games.

"Come in," someone replies, but the voice is so muffled that I can't make out who spoke.

The main lights have been switched off while a lamp that projects a multitude of colours has been dimmed; looking around, it seems like we could be having our own little party in here. The room smells like fresh cut flowers, and a hint of tobacco, clearly belonging to the clary sage and lavender in the diffuser. My station is just next to the door; the computer is at the furthest end, near the wall, whereas the space before has been filled by Millie's notes as well as little boxes with all the equipment we need for a safe delivery. Next to me, there is a beige armchair that can be pulled out, making it into a snug little bed. The couch, however, is our birthing bed; it is extremely uncomfortable for midwives as it is basically on the floor, but it makes women feel more in a home-like environment, helping them to relax, so we endure it. But Amelia is not on the chair nor on the couch; she is standing under the jet of hot water in the shower, which is in the ensuite. Her brother, Jesse, is standing on this side of the curtain, his face is pale and dark circles frame his bright emerald green eyes. A low groan erupts behind the floral drape, and more colour drains from Jesse's face.

"Mills are you alright in there?" he asks, his voice trembling.

"Let me just grab your balls and squeeze them. Then, you can tell me how I am feeling," she snaps aggressively while her brother crosses his legs in front of him, probably terrified of her threat. I walk over to him, tapping his shoulder; he whips his head around, his eyes filling with hope and relief at my sight.

He lowers his head down to my ear whispering, "please, tell me you can cast out the demon that has clearly taken over my sister."

"I can hear you, dumbass," she shouts, and her voice vibrates through the small room, "and where the fuck is my fiancé? His kid is going to rip my vagina in two, and he can't be bothered to show up?" Jesse grimaces, surely disturbed by the image that Amelia has just painted in his head.

Suddenly, the curtain is pulled, revealing a flushed Amelia that is balancing herself while holding onto the sink. "Call him, now, Jay," she barks, and her brother quickly glances at me, I think to wish me good luck, before jogging out of that hellhole. Amelia keeps her head low, but she lifts her gaze up to me, looking me right in the eye through her lashes, "check how far I am, now," she orders.

"Mills, this isn't a good idea. I checked you when you came in, and I don't feel there is any indication to do it again right now. Let's wait a little longer, shall we? Even if you were ten centimetres dilated now, it wouldn't matter if you knew, the baby would come out anyways."

"Maeve, shove your finger up there and tell me how far I am or, I swear to God, I'll do it myself. Or I'll get Jay to do it," I snort imagining his utterly shocked face; he would do it, though, because, right now, he is absolutely terrified of her.

"Millie, you know the infection risk associated with it, we have talked about it many times," I insist but her face tells me she is not going to budge.

She points at her notes sitting on my desk, "you can write on there that I am giving you my full informed consent. Now, your finger, please."

Defeated, I draw the curtains and help her to lay down on the couch. While I prepare the equipment I am going to need and wash my hands, the door opens and closes with a thud that makes me jump. Whoever entered knows not to step through, and my guess is Jesse.

"I spoke with Nick," her brother chooses his words carefully, well knowing that anything might trigger his sister, "he is about ten minutes away and he is going to be here soon."

"Took him long enough. Don't come in yet, Lils is checking my cervix," she informs him as I slide a finger in to carry out this little procedure.

"That was something I really didn't need to know, Mill."