Chapter 2 - THE HOSPITAL HE DIDN'T KNOW ABOUTThe hospital near the Pennsylvania border was small, old, and almost empty.
Its fluorescent lights buzzed above us as two nurses rushed me down the hallway.
“Thirty-nine weeks,” Rachel told them.
“Contractions?”
“About two minutes apart.”
“First baby?”
I nodded.
“Any complications?”
“No.”
Then another contraction hit.
I grabbed the nurse's arm.
“She's coming.”
“We know.”
“No. I mean now.”
They pushed the bed faster.
Doors opened.
Doctors appeared.
Someone asked for my identification.
Someone else asked for the father's information.
The question froze me.
“Father's name?”
“Derek Lawson.”
“Is he coming?”
I stared at the ceiling.
“No.”
The nurse looked at me.
“Are you sure?”
I closed my eyes.
“Yes.”
She wrote something down.
Then the pain swallowed everything.
Time disappeared.
There was only my breathing.
The doctor's voice.
Rachel beside me.
The pressure.
Then, suddenly, a cry.
Sharp.
Angry.
Beautiful.
My daughter.
Emily.
They placed her on my chest.
She was tiny.
Red-faced.
Furious at the world.
I touched her cheek.
And I broke.
I cried so hard that my shoulders shook.
Rachel stood beside the bed crying too.
“She’s beautiful,” she whispered.
I looked down.
“She is.”
Emily opened her eyes.
For one impossible second, the whole world became very small.
Just me.
Her.
And the sound of her breathing.
Then the nurse asked, “Do you want us to notify the father?”
My answer came immediately.
“No.”
The nurse looked surprised.
“No?”
“No.”
Rachel touched my shoulder.
“You don't have to decide anything else tonight.”
But I already had.
I had left him.
Now I had to make sure he couldn't pull me back.
Later that morning, after the room had gone quiet, I turned on my phone.
Thirty-four missed calls.
Nine messages.
The first ones were angry.
WHERE ARE YOU?
ANSWER YOUR PHONE.
THIS IS NOT FUNNY.
Then they became threatening.
YOU CANNOT TAKE MY CHILD.
Then frightened.
PLEASE TELL ME WHICH HOSPITAL.
Then furious again.
I WILL FIND YOU.
I stared at the last message.
Rachel saw it.
“We need to talk to the hospital security desk.”
“I know.”
She sat down.
“I need to tell you something.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
Rachel hesitated.
“Three weeks ago, when you called me, I didn't just tell you to leave.”
“What did you do?”
“I started looking.”
“For what?”
“For Derek.”
My stomach tightened.
Rachel pulled her phone from her coat.
“I found something strange.”
She handed me a screenshot.
It was a bank statement.
Derek's name.
A company I didn't recognize.
A transfer for $42,000.
Then another.
$18,500.
Then $31,000.
“What is this?”
“I don't know.”
“Where did you get it?”
“Your old email account.”
I frowned.
“My email?”
“The one Derek told you was hacked last year.”
I sat up.
“What are you talking about?”
“He lied.”
My mouth went dry.
Rachel continued.
“I recovered some old messages.”
She opened another screenshot.
An email from a man named Samuel Reed.
The subject line read:
MERCER ACCOUNT
The message was short.
She still doesn't know?
I stared at it.
“Who is Samuel Reed?”
“I don't know yet.”
“Rachel…”
“There’s more.”
She opened another image.
This time it was a bank document.
At the top was my name.
My full legal name.
And beneath it was an account number I had never seen.
I looked at Rachel.
“I don't have that account.”
“I know.”
“Then why is my name on it?”
“I don't know.”
Silence filled the room.
Emily stirred in my arms.
I pulled her closer.
Then Rachel's phone vibrated.
She looked down.
Her face changed.
“What?”
She turned the screen toward me.
A text message.
From an unknown number.
Congratulations on the baby.
My blood ran cold.
Another message appeared.
You shouldn't have left without your husband.
Rachel immediately stood.
“I'm calling security.”
I couldn't breathe.
Someone knew.
Someone knew I was here.
Then the third message arrived.
And Rachel shouldn't have brought you to this hospital.
Rachel stared at me.
I stared back.
The room suddenly felt much too small.
A nurse entered carrying a blanket.
“Everything okay?”
Rachel slipped the phone into her pocket.
“Yes.”
But neither of us believed her.
That afternoon, a hospital administrator came into my room.
“There is a man downstairs asking for you.”
My heart stopped.
“Derek?”
The administrator shook his head.
“He says he's your husband's attorney.”
Rachel stood immediately.
“What's his name?”
The administrator checked the clipboard.
“Samuel Reed.”
I looked at Rachel.
The same name from the email.
The same man who had asked:
She still doesn't know?
My newborn daughter was sleeping against my chest.
I whispered one sentence.
“Don't let him in.”
But before the administrator could leave, the hospital phone rang.
She answered.
Then her expression slowly changed.
She looked at me.
“He says he doesn't want to see you.”
I frowned.
“Then what does he want?”
May you like
The administrator swallowed.
“He says he wants to see your daughter.”
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