I approached, and before I could say anything, she opened the back door.
“Please, please,” she begged. “I need to get to San José Hospital. The baby’s coming.”
She was young, maybe twenty-five, her face contorted with pain. Her cheeks were wet, although I couldn’t tell if it was from the rain or her tears.
“Get in, get in,” I said. “Relax, we’ll get there.”
I started quickly, but carefully. She was breathing deeply, trying to control her contractions.
“What’s your name?” I asked, trying to keep her calm.
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