Chapter 2 - The Hospital Corridor
The sterile scent of rubbing alcohol and bleach filled my nose as the gurney rattled through the double doors of St. Jude’s Memorial Emergency Ward.
Overhead lights flashed past in a rhythmic, mesmerizing blur. Every bump of the wheels sent a jolt of ache through my pelvis, making me gasp for air.
"Fetal heart rate is 140, slightly elevated but stable," a nurse called out, walking rapidly beside my gurney. "BP is 135 over 88. Contractions are minimal, but we need an immediate ultrasound to check for placental abruption."
"I'm here, Mara. I'm right here," Lenora said, her hand clutching mine so tightly her knuckles were white. She had refused to leave my side, riding in the front of the ambulance while the paramedics monitored my baby's vitals.
They wheeled me into Trauma Bay 3. Within seconds, a female physician with warm eyes and short silver hair stepped up to the bed. Her nametag read Dr. Evelyn Vance, OB/GYN.
"Hello, Mara. I'm Dr. Vance," she said softly, placing a warm hand on my shoulder. "I know you're terrified, but I need you to take three deep breaths for me. We are going to take very good care of you and your little one."
I squeezed my eyes shut, inhaling the cold hospital air. "Is my baby okay? Please... please tell me my baby is okay."
"We're going to check right now," Dr. Vance said calmly, squeezing cold blue gel onto a plastic wand. "You're going to feel some pressure on your belly. Tell me if it hurts."
The cold gel sent a shiver through my spine. Dr. Vance pressed the transducer against my lower abdomen, her eyes fixed on the black-and-white monitor mounted on the wall.
For ten agony-filled seconds, the room was silent save for the hum of the machine.
Then, a fast, rhythmic sound filled the room.
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump.
It sounded like a tiny horse galloping through a field. Tears poured unchecked down my temples, soaking into my hair.
"There’s your baby’s heart," Dr. Vance smiled warmly, pointing at a tiny fluttering flickering shape on the screen. "Strong, steady, and loud. Let's take a look at the placenta."
She moved the wand carefully, her expression shifting into deep concentration. Minutes stretched like hours. Finally, she wiped the gel off my stomach and handed me a tissue.
"The good news, Mara, is that there is no sign of placental abruption," Dr. Vance explained, sitting on a stool beside the bed. "Your abdominal wall took the brunt of the impact. You are going to have a severe bruise, and your uterine muscles are irritated. I am putting you on strict bed rest for the next forty-eight hours under observation to ensure no delayed labor begins."
A massive weight lifted off my chest, allowing me to finally breathe normally. "Thank you. Thank you, Doctor."
"Now," Dr. Vance’s voice dropped, turning sharp and professional. "The police officer outside needs a statement. She informed me that the assailant was your mother. Is that correct?"
I swallowed hard, the reality of what had happened crashing back over me like a tidal wave. "Yes. Blythe Marrow."
"I have already documented the contusions on your stomach for the forensic medical report," Dr. Vance said gently. "In cases like this, St. Jude’s works directly with the District Attorney’s office. You don't have to protect her, Mara."
"I don't want to protect her," I whispered, the last lingering embers of my childhood obedience dying right then and there. "I want her locked away."
Dr. Vance nodded approvingly and stepped out to let the officer in.
Officer Davis, the woman who had arrested Blythe, walked in holding a tablet. "Miss Marrow, I need to take your official statement. But before we begin, there is someone outside who claims to be your sister’s husband. He's demanding to see you."
My heart stuttered. "Julian?"
Lenora instantly stood up, her eyes flashing with anger. "Don't let him in here! He's married to Calista! He's probably here to intimidate Mara into dropping the charges!"
"He isn't with your sister," Officer Davis noted, looking at her tablet. "He arrived alone. He looks... extremely agitated. Should I tell him to leave?"
I hesitated. Julian Vance—no relation to the doctor—was my brother-in-law. He was a successful corporate attorney, a quiet, reserved man who had married Calista four years ago. My family had always worshipped him because of his money and status, contrasting him sharply against me, the single graphic designer living in a rented townhouse.
Yet, despite my family's obsession with him, Julian had always treated me with a quiet, distant kindness that Calista deeply resented.
"Let him in," I said softly.
Lenora glared at me, but stepped back near the window.
A moment later, the door pushed open. Julian stepped into the room.
He looked nothing like the polished, pristine attorney who usually attended family dinners in tailored suits. His hair was messy, his tie hung loose around his unbuttoned collar, and his face was pale as flour.
His eyes locked onto mine, and I saw a raw, unadulterated pain in them that terrified me.
"Mara," he breathed, his voice hoarse. He crossed the room in three long strides, stopping right beside my bed. His hands reached out as if to touch my shoulder, then hesitated, hovering in the air before dropping to his side. "Oh God, Mara... I just came from the precinct. I heard what Blythe did."
"Julian," I rasped, confused by the sheer agony in his expression. "What are you doing here? Where is Calista?"
Julian let out a ragged, broken laugh that sounded like tearing paper. He buried his face in his hands for a second before pulling them down, revealing eyes that were bloodshot and brimming with tears.
"Calista is at her mother's house, trying to bail Blythe out," Julian said, his voice dropping to an intense, trembling whisper. "She called me twenty minutes ago. She asked me to use my firm's influence to make the charges disappear."
"And what did you tell her?" Lenora demanded from the corner.
Julian didn't look at Lenora. He kept his eyes locked on mine, his chest heaving.
"I told her to go to hell," Julian whispered.
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He pulled a thick leather folder from under his arm and laid it gently on the foot of my hospital bed.
"I didn't come here to defend them, Mara," Julian said, his voice shaking with a terrifying, righteous rage. "I came here because I just found out what they've been doing to you. And what they tried to do to your baby."
