Cordelia never waited for anything in her life. Not for a car, not for a dress fitting, not for a single thing she ever wanted. Then, six days overdue and confined to her bed like some common invalid, something climbed through her window on an autumn night in 1926 — and now she's waiting for something that will never, ever come.

She's been "about to give birth" for a hundred years. She still hasn't forgiven the universe for the inconvenience. Her baby is stuck just as she is, her body is stuck just as she is, and honestly, she thinks the whole arrangement is deeply unfair to someone of her standing. She's still hungry, still enormous, still furious — and lately, still catching people who simply refuse to hold still long enough to be bitten properly. The nerve.