Chapter 2 - THIRTY-FOUR WEEKS
The ambulance doors closed on Victor’s voice.
He was shouting that Officer Reed had no right to seize private family documents. Reed answered that the papers were being preserved as potential evidence connected to an assault and suspected forgery.
Then the doors sealed, and there was only the siren, the monitor, and Sarah’s gloved hand moving across my abdomen.
“Tell me when you feel pressure.”
“I already feel pressure.”
“Constant or coming in waves?”
“I can’t tell.”
She placed the portable fetal monitor against my skin.
Static filled the ambulance.
She adjusted the sensor.
A rapid heartbeat emerged, then vanished.
My breath stopped.
“Where did it go?”
“The baby may have shifted.”
She moved the sensor lower.
The heartbeat returned at one hundred sixty-two beats per minute.
Too fast.
Sarah did not tell me everything was fine. She called the hospital and reported preterm rupture of membranes, blunt trauma, absent perceived movement, possible contractions, and a fetal heart rate requiring immediate evaluation.
“Is he in distress?”
“He needs continuous monitoring. We’re almost there.”
I gripped the strap beside my shoulder.
“My mother could have helped me.”
Sarah met my eyes.
“Right now, focus on breathing.”
It was not an answer.
It was the only thing she could safely give me.
At Lakeshore University Hospital, the obstetric trauma team met us at the emergency entrance. They transferred me without allowing me to stand, fitted continuous monitors around my belly, started an IV, drew blood, and asked me the same questions in different orders.
My husband, Nathan, had died five months earlier in the highway collision that fractured my pelvis and damaged my left leg.
I had been twenty weeks pregnant.
The baby survived.
My doctors warned me that the remaining pregnancy would require limited weight-bearing, physical therapy, and a wheelchair until the pelvic injuries stabilized.
I moved temporarily into my parents’ accessible guest suite because I could not manage the stairs in my own home.
Victor became helpful.
He paid bills from my account, spoke with insurers, collected mail, and drove me to appointments.
I had mistaken access for care.
Dr. Priya Monroe entered the trauma bay and examined the monitor.
The baby’s heart rate rose and dipped with each tightening of my abdomen. An ultrasound showed cardiac activity and movement, but the fluid around him was reduced.
“My membranes have ruptured?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Can you stop labor?”
“At thirty-four weeks and five days, we balance prematurity against infection, placental injury, and fetal distress. Because of the trauma and this tracing, we are not making assumptions.”
She ordered steroids to support the baby’s lungs, antibiotics, and continued monitoring while the team assessed whether delivery needed to happen immediately.
A nurse photographed the bruising forming along my hip and shoulder. My maternity gown and underclothes were placed in separate paper bags.
Officer Reed arrived with Detective Laura Chen.
They waited until Dr. Monroe said I was stable enough to speak.
Victor claimed I had tried to stand from the wheelchair during an argument and fallen.
Diane told Reed she had not seen how the chair tipped because she was looking toward the cake.
Mason said his graduation robe blocked his view.
Three people.
Three versions designed to leave no witness.
“What did the emergency call capture?” I asked.
Detective Chen placed her recorder on the tray.
“The dispatcher heard Mr. Hale’s demand concerning the deed, your statement that your water broke, his offer to help if you signed, and his instruction not to open the gate.”
Relief moved through me.
Not because the recording solved everything.
Because I had not imagined the calmness in his voice.
“What about the power of attorney?”
“The notary says she did not prepare it. She was hired only to witness a deed transfer.”
“Who signed my name?”
“We are determining that.”
The baby’s heart rate dropped.
A nurse entered before the monitor alarm finished sounding.
Dr. Monroe followed.
The rate recovered, but slowly.
“We may need to deliver,” she said.
My hand found the wedding ring I still wore on a chain beneath my gown.
Nathan should have been beside me.
Instead, my father was telling police I had fallen by myself.
The hospital social worker contacted my attorney, Rachel Sloan, and my closest friend, Olivia Bennett. Olivia reached the hospital before my parents did.
Victor was denied entry under the temporary safety restriction I requested.
Diane waited downstairs.
Mason sent a message.
I’m sorry you fell. Dad only wanted everyone to have what was fair.
I gave the phone to Detective Chen.
Then a second message arrived from an unknown number.
Do not let the hospital accept Victor Hale’s power of attorney. He filed another copy with your bank this morning.
The message included a photograph of a fax confirmation from Meridian Community Bank.
May you like
At 9:12 that morning—hours before the graduation lunch—Victor had attempted to activate legal control over all my property.
The deed was not the only asset he intended to take.
