"Halloween," he echoes, hitting redial with his thumb and putting the phone back up to his ear. "Someone checked to make sure East Hallow was still deserted, right?" Aloud, it lacks the humor Darlington wants it to have, and after a moment, he shakes his head. "Sorry."

Alex's breath hisses out in a long, strained stream, and Darlington lays a hand on her back, rubbing gently. The phone keeps ringing, and when the doula's voicemail greeting starts playing once again, he winces.

"It's Danny and Alex," he says after the beep. "Again. Let us know if you're on your way."