Olivia (Logan 5)

"There's nothing to do, Belinda. The baby's getting ready to be born."

"It wasn't like this before!" She grabbed my wrist and pulled me down with such strength, I was astonished. Then she whispered, "I'm being punished for what I've done. That witch cursed me. Help me!"

"Stop it," I told her. "Be a grown-up for a change." I tore her grip from my wrist, but she clung to my dress. I had to pry her fingers away.

"Stop acting like an idiot. I'll get you some water and some cold towels for your face."

"Don't leave me! I don't want to be alone like I was the last time. I'm afraid."

"You're being absolutely ridiculous," I said and left the room, closing the door to shut off her cries of agony.

For a moment I stood there in the hallway trying to decide what I wanted more, Nelson's baby to be born healthy and well, or Nelson's baby to die just like Belinda's first child had.

I covered my face in my hands and shook my head. Daddy's dying words echoed. "Look after Belinda, take care of Belinda:"

"Belinda, Belinda, Belinda!" I screamed in the dark confines of my own mind. "What about me, Daddy? What about what I feel, what I suffer?"

I took a deep breath, gathered my wits and went downstairs to find Samuel rushing out of the house. "Isabella's back. I'm going to get her," he said.

"Good."

I took my time returning to Belinda's room. The fact is I left her screaming and squirming in agony by herself for nearly a half hour. I heard her throw something against the wall. I heard a thump and then I returned to her room.

When I opened the door, she was giving birth, her eyes so wide I thought her head would tear apart.

"Why did you leave me? Help me!"

For the first time in my life, I felt nailed to the floor, unable to do anything, mesmerized, rendered paralyzed by the sight before me. I could see the child's head! Belinda screamed and reached down like some wild animal trying to ease the fetus from its womb.

I heard the sound of footsteps on the stairway and turned to see Thelma hurrying up, Effie right behind her.

"What's happening, Mrs. Logan?"

I just nodded at Belinda.

"Oh dear, she's having it!" Thelma cried and rushed to the bed.

In the end it was Thelma and not the midwife who delivered Belinda's child.

A girl.

Ironically, although she wasn't mine, she was the daughter Samuel had wanted.

Belinda had no interest in her own baby after the birth. She didn't offer a single suggestion for a name. In the end it was Samuel who had always wanted a girl to name after his mother, Haille, who named Belinda's child.

The night Haille was born, I sat in my den and called Nelson at home. His maid answered the phone and then he came on, his voice subdued.

"She had a girl," I said. "We're calling her Haille after Samuel's mother."

"The baby is all right?"

"As far as we can see, yes," I said.

"And Belinda?"

"She's not all right. She'll never be all right," I reminded him.

"Do you need anything?" he asked, his voice testy, reluctant.