Chapter 7
The door locked from the outside.
Megan stood beside my bed with a metal water bottle in one hand.
I would have laughed if I hadn’t been terrified.
“What are you going to do with that?”
“Whatever I need to.”
“You’re five-foot-four.”
“I’m angry.”
Another contraction hit.
I gripped the bed rails.
“Okay.”
Megan rushed over.
“Breathe.”
“I am breathing.”
“You’re threatening me with your eyes.”
“Because you keep telling me to breathe.”
Footsteps thundered past the room.
Then silence.
Too much silence.
A nurse finally entered.
“Everything is under control.”
“What happened?”
“Two men were involved in an argument near the elevators.”
“Daniel and Victor?”
She hesitated.
“I don’t know their names.”
I did.
“Were they arrested?”
“Security has them separated. Police are coming.”
I sank back.
My doctor entered minutes later.
She checked the monitor.
“Your contractions aren’t slowing enough.”
My heart tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“It means we prepare for the possibility that your daughter wants to arrive early.”
“No.”
“Emily—”
“She isn’t ready.”
The doctor took my hand.
“Thirty-five-week babies generally do very well.”
Generally.
I hated that word.
“What if she needs the NICU?”
“Then we’ll take care of her.”
I started crying.
Not quietly.
Not gracefully.
Everything I had held in for two days came out.
“I wanted Daniel here.”
Megan’s face softened.
I covered my eyes.
“I hate him, but I wanted him here.”
“I know.”
“We spent months talking about this.”
“I know.”
“He was supposed to hold my hand.”
“I know.”
“He was supposed to cut the cord.”
“I know.”
“And now security is keeping him away because I’m afraid of my own husband.”
Megan wrapped her arms around me.
I sobbed against her shoulder.
“I don’t know how this became my life.”
For several minutes, I was only a frightened woman having a baby too early.
Not a fraud victim.
Not a witness.
Not the wife of a man who might have planned something terrible.
Just a mother.
Then Detective Ortiz arrived.
His expression told me the crisis outside had ended.
“Victor left before officers arrived.”
“How?”
“He wasn’t under arrest.”
“What about Daniel?”
“We’re speaking with him.”
“He came up here?”
“He tried.”
“Why were they fighting?”
“Daniel claims Victor threatened you.”
I laughed bitterly.
“How heroic.”
Ortiz remained serious.
“Daniel also says he wants immunity.”
Laura, who had just entered behind him, stopped.
“Immunity from what?”
“Exactly.”
Ortiz looked at me.
“Your husband says he’s willing to cooperate against Victor Hale.”
I stared at him.
“Why now?”
“He says Victor crossed a line.”
“What line? Showing up here?”
“Yes.”
I almost laughed again.
“Daniel forged my name. Stole money. Hid assets. Put a massive insurance policy on me. But Victor showing up is the line?”
Ortiz nodded grimly.
“People often discover morality when consequences arrive.”
Laura pulled a chair closer.
“What is he offering?”
Ortiz looked at her.
“Information on Aurora. Loan fraud. Shell companies. Possibly bribery.”
“And in return?”
“He wants consideration.”
“For all charges?”
“That would be up to prosecutors.”
I pressed my hand against my stomach.
“What does he say about me?”
Ortiz hesitated.
“Emily.”
“What?”
“He claims the life insurance policy was Victor’s idea.”
My skin went cold.
“Why?”
“He says Victor wanted financial leverage.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It doesn’t.”
“What about the trust?”
“He admits he knew about it.”
“Of course.”
“He says he planned to leave you after the baby was born.”
The words hurt even though I already knew.
“Why after?”
“Because he believed divorce before the delivery might affect his access to marital property and custody.”
Laura shook her head.
“That’s not how any competent attorney would explain it.”
“Daniel may not have had competent advice.”
I remembered Harrison, Cole & Blake.
“The law firm.”
Ortiz nodded.
“We’re looking at them too.”
My contraction monitor spiked.
The doctor returned.
“We need everyone to step out.”
I grabbed Megan.
“She stays.”
Everyone else left.
Three hours later, my water broke.
There was no stopping labor after that.
The room filled with nurses.
Machines.
Instructions.
Pain.
Fear.
I kept thinking about Daniel.
Not because I wanted him back.
Because grief doesn’t disappear just because betrayal becomes obvious.
The man I wanted beside me did not exist.
Maybe he never had.
That was what hurt.
Megan held my hand.
“You’re doing it.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I’m scared.”
“So am I.”
That actually helped.
The doctor smiled from the end of the bed.
“One more strong push, Emily.”
I screamed.
Then I heard it.
A tiny cry.
Sharp.
Angry.
Beautiful.
My daughter.
The doctor lifted her for one brief second.
“She’s here.”
I burst into tears.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s breathing.”
A neonatal team examined her.
I couldn’t stop asking questions.
“Why is she so quiet now?”
“She’s okay.”
“Why are they taking her?”
“She needs some help maintaining her temperature and breathing.”
“Can I hold her?”
“For a moment.”
They placed her against my chest.
She was tiny.
So much smaller than I had imagined.
Her face was red.
Her eyes squeezed shut.
Her fingers curled against my skin.
“Hi,” I whispered.
My entire world narrowed to her.
“Hi, baby.”
Megan cried beside me.
“What’s her name?”
Daniel and I had chosen one months ago.
Lily Grace Carter.
Suddenly Carter felt wrong.
Daniel had contaminated everything.
But Lily was still hers.
“Lily.”
I kissed her head.
“Lily Grace.”
The nurse smiled.
Then they took her to the NICU.
I cried after she left.
An hour later, after I was cleaned up and moved to recovery, Laura returned.
“Daniel knows she was born.”
“How?”
“He’s still downstairs. Someone told him.”
I stared at the wall.
“He wants to see her.”
My body tensed.
“No.”
“As her legal father, that could become complicated.”
“He’s under investigation.”
“Not arrested.”
“Can I stop him?”
“Temporarily, hospital security can restrict him from your room. Access to Lily may be a separate issue.”
My stomach turned.
“I don’t want him near her.”
“We’re filing emergency custody paperwork.”
“Today?”
“Already started.”
I looked at her.
“Thank you.”
A nurse entered holding an envelope.
“This was left for you at the desk.”
Laura immediately stood.
“By who?”
“She said she was Daniel’s mother.”
I stared.
“Carol?”
I hadn’t heard from my mother-in-law once.
Not a call.
Not a text.
Nothing.
“Is she here?”
“She left.”
I opened the envelope carefully.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
Emily,
I am sorry. I knew Daniel had money problems, but I did not know how bad they were. He asked me for something six months ago, and I gave it to him. I realize now I should have told you.
Under the letter was an old folder.
Inside were medical records.
Daniel’s.
Fertility testing.
I frowned.
Then I saw the result.
Severe male factor infertility.
Extremely low probability of natural conception.
My heart stopped.
The test was dated four years earlier.
Before our pregnancy.
Before our miscarriages.
I read it again.
And again.
“No.”
Laura took the paper.
Her face changed.
“What?”
I shook my head.
“This can’t be right.”
“Emily—”
“We got pregnant three times.”
Laura didn’t speak.
I felt suddenly cold.
“Our first two pregnancies ended in miscarriage.”
She sat beside me.
“And Lily?”
I stared through the glass wall toward the hallway leading to the NICU.
Daniel had never told me he was nearly infertile.
We had done fertility testing together.
At least I thought we had.
He had told me his results were normal.
I had undergone tests.
Procedures.
Hormone injections.
I blamed myself every time we lost a pregnancy.
My mother-in-law’s letter continued.
Daniel begged me never to mention the test. He said the doctor was wrong and it would destroy you emotionally. I believed him.
There’s something else.
I stopped reading.
Laura leaned closer.
I forced myself to continue.
After your second miscarriage, Daniel told me he had arranged a fertility treatment without telling you because he wanted to surprise you with a successful pregnancy. I told him that made no sense. He became angry and refused to discuss it.
My hands started shaking.
“A fertility treatment?”
Laura’s voice was sharp.
“Did you ever have a procedure where you were sedated?”
I thought.
“After the second miscarriage, I had a hysteroscopy.”
“Where?”
“Private clinic. Daniel arranged it.”
“Name?”
“Westbridge Women’s Center.”
Laura immediately searched on her phone.
Then she frowned.
“What?”
“Westbridge closed last year.”
My skin prickled.
“Why?”
“According to this, licensing violations.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“What did he do?”
Laura took my hand.
“We don’t know.”
I looked toward the NICU.
For the first time since Lily was born, a terrible thought entered my mind.
If Daniel was almost infertile—
and if he had lied about a fertility procedure—
then whose biological child was sleeping down the hall?
My phone buzzed.
Daniel.
I almost threw it.
Instead I opened the message.
Congratulations.
Then another.
Please let me see my daughter.
I stared at those words.
My daughter.
Then a third message arrived.
No matter what anyone tells you, Lily is mine.
I stopped breathing.
Laura read over my shoulder.
Neither of us spoke.
May you like
Because Daniel hadn’t written ours.
He had written mine.
