Chapter 2
The ambulance siren cut through the street before Ryan could open the envelope.
Two paramedics rushed toward me with a stretcher.
One knelt beside my head.
“Ma’am, can you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Where does it hurt?”
“My stomach.”
Another wave of pain ripped through me.
I screamed.
Ryan immediately dropped the envelope and grabbed my hand.
“Emily.”
I stared at him.
His face was twisted with fear.
But behind him, Jessica was still standing beside the SUV.
Watching.
Not crying.
Not apologizing.
Just watching.
The paramedic lifted my dress enough to examine the blood.
His expression changed.
“We need to move now.”
“What’s happening?” Ryan asked.
“Possible placental abruption. She needs emergency evaluation.”
My heart stopped.
“Is my baby alive?”
“We’re going to check everything at the hospital.”
That wasn’t an answer.
They lifted me onto the stretcher.
Ryan tried to climb into the ambulance.
A police officer blocked him.
“Sir, I need you to stay here.”
“My wife is pregnant!”
“And that woman allegedly hit her with a vehicle.”
The officer pointed toward Jessica.
“She’s not leaving.”
Jessica laughed bitterly.
“Good.”
Ryan turned toward her.
“What is wrong with you?”
She stared at him.
“You really want to ask me that now?”
“Ryan!”
I screamed his name from the ambulance.
He looked back.
“Go,” I whispered. “Just go.”
The doors closed.
The last thing I saw was Ryan standing between a police officer and his mistress.
And the white envelope lying on the pavement.
The ambulance started moving.
I tried to breathe through the pain.
Then the paramedic placed a monitor against my belly.
For several horrible seconds, there was only static.
“Please.”
I grabbed his wrist.
“Please find the heartbeat.”
He adjusted the device.
Then I heard it.
Fast.
Weak.
But there.
I started sobbing.
“That’s your baby,” he said.
“Is that good?”
“It means your baby is fighting.”
I closed my eyes.
So was I.
Twenty minutes later, the emergency department exploded into movement around me.
Nurses.
Doctors.
Monitors.
Questions.
Someone cut away part of my clothing.
Someone inserted an IV.
Then Dr. Patel, the obstetrician on call, leaned over me.
“Emily, I need you to listen carefully.”
I nodded.
“We’re seeing signs that your placenta may have partially separated.”
My entire body went cold.
“Can you save her?”
“We’re going to try.”
Her.
My daughter.
Ryan and I had chosen her name two months earlier.
Sophie.
Ryan had painted the nursery himself.
Or at least I thought he had.
Suddenly every memory felt contaminated.
Jessica’s words came back.
You think that’s your baby?
“Doctor.”
“Yes?”
“If you have to choose…”
My voice broke.
“Choose her.”
Dr. Patel gripped my hand.
“We’re going to take care of both of you.”
Another contraction hit.
This time stronger.
The monitor began beeping.
A nurse looked at the screen.
“Deceleration.”
Dr. Patel turned sharply.
“How long?”
“Forty seconds.”
The heartbeat climbed again.
Everyone relaxed slightly.
I didn’t.
“What does that mean?”
“It means your baby is under stress.”
I stared at the ceiling.
“Do the C-section.”
“We may need to.”
“Then do it.”
“We’re preparing.”
The doors opened.
Ryan rushed inside.
His shirt was wrinkled.
His face was pale.
“Emily.”
I looked past him.
“Where is Jessica?”
“Police detained her.”
“The envelope?”
His expression changed.
That tiny hesitation told me everything.
“You opened it.”
“Emily—”
“You opened it.”
“Yes.”
The room suddenly felt silent even though machines were beeping around us.
“What did it say?”
Ryan looked toward the nurses.
“Not now.”
I laughed once.
It came out broken.
“She hit me with a car, Ryan. Our baby may die. I think now is exactly when you stop lying.”
His eyes filled.
“The test says I’m not the father.”
A nurse quietly stepped away.
I stared at him.
“That’s impossible.”
“That’s what it says.”
“No.”
“Emily, Jessica said—”
“I don’t care what Jessica said.”
“It’s a prenatal DNA report.”
“I never took a prenatal DNA test.”
Ryan froze.
“What?”
“I never gave blood for a paternity test. I never approved anything.”
His face changed.
“Then how did she get your DNA?”
“I don’t know.”
A strange expression crossed his face.
Fear.
Not anger.
Fear.
“Ryan?”
He stepped backward.
“Eight months ago.”
“What?”
“The night I went to Chicago.”
My throat tightened.
“Yes.”
“Where were you?”
“At home.”
Jessica had claimed otherwise.
“I called you from the hotel.”
“You called at seven.”
“And then?”
“I went to bed.”
“Emily.”
“What?”
He looked like he was afraid to speak.
“I came home that night.”
I stared at him.
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes.”
“You told me your flight landed the next morning.”
“I lied.”
The pain in my stomach temporarily disappeared beneath something colder.
“Why?”
Ryan looked away.
“I drove home because I thought you were seeing someone.”
My mouth fell open.
“What?”
“Jessica sent me pictures.”
Of course she had.
“What pictures?”
“You leaving a restaurant with a man.”
My heart sank.
“Daniel?”
Ryan looked at me.
“You know who I’m talking about?”
“He’s my cousin.”
Ryan blinked.
“What?”
“My mother’s sister’s son. The cousin you’ve met twice.”
“I thought—”
“You thought I was sleeping with my cousin?”
“He looked different in the pictures.”
I closed my eyes.
This was insane.
“You came home.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I saw a car outside our house.”
“What car?”
“Black Mercedes.”
I shook my head.
“I don’t remember any Mercedes.”
“The lights upstairs were on.”
“They always are.”
“I went inside.”
My skin prickled.
Something in his voice was wrong.
“What happened?”
Ryan didn’t answer.
“Ryan.”
He swallowed.
“I heard someone in our bedroom.”
The fetal monitor beeped faster.
My own heart followed it.
“I was asleep.”
“I thought you were.”
“You thought?”
“I opened the bedroom door.”
He stopped.
“And?”
“There was a man standing beside the bed.”
I stared at him.
“What man?”
“I never saw his face clearly.”
“You were in our bedroom and saw a stranger beside me?”
“You weren’t awake.”
My entire body went cold.
“What do you mean?”
Ryan’s eyes filled with horror.
“You looked unconscious.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“Did you help me?”
He didn’t answer.
I knew before he spoke.
“I ran.”
I stared at my husband as if he were a stranger.
“You ran?”
“I thought…”
“What?”
“I thought you had invited him.”
“While unconscious?”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“You left me?”
“Emily, I was angry.”
“You left your pregnant wife unconscious in a bedroom with a strange man?”
“You weren’t pregnant yet.”
The words hung in the air.
Not pregnant yet.
My stomach turned.
“You came back when?”
“Twenty minutes later.”
“And?”
“The car was gone. You were asleep.”
“Did you wake me?”
“No.”
“Did you ask if I was okay?”
“No.”
“Did you call the police?”
“No.”
“Did you ever tell me?”
“No.”
I started shaking.
A nurse stepped toward me.
“Emily, try to stay calm.”
I couldn’t.
Because suddenly I remembered that morning.
Not clearly.
Pieces.
A headache.
An unfamiliar smell.
My nightgown on the floor.
A bruise on my thigh.
I had assumed Ryan and I had been intimate before he left.
But now another memory surfaced.
I had made tea.
The doorbell rang.
Someone had said he was delivering documents for Ryan.
Then nothing.
Nothing until morning.
“Oh my God.”
Ryan moved closer.
“What?”
“I don’t remember that night.”
His face drained of color.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I don’t remember anything after answering the door.”
The monitor began screaming.
A nurse shouted.
“Heart rate dropping!”
Dr. Patel rushed back into the room.
“Emily, we’re going to surgery now.”
“What?”
“Your baby’s heart rate isn’t recovering.”
The bed started moving.
Ryan grabbed the rail.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
He froze.
“Emily.”
“You left me once when I couldn’t protect myself.”
Tears ran down my face.
“You don’t get to stand beside me now.”
The nurses pushed me through the doors.
Ryan called my name.
I didn’t look back.
The operating room was painfully bright.
Someone placed a mask over my face.
Dr. Patel leaned over me.
“We need general anesthesia. This is urgent.”
I nodded.
“Save Sophie.”
“We will do everything we can.”
The room blurred.
But before darkness took me, one thought remained.
If Ryan wasn’t Sophie’s father…
And I had no memory of being with another man…
Then Jessica’s DNA test wasn’t proof of an affair.
It was evidence.
And somewhere out there was a man who knew exactly what had happened to me eight months ago.
When I opened my eyes again, the room was dark.
For one confused second, I thought I was still pregnant.
Then my hand moved instinctively toward my stomach.
Flat.
Empty.
“No.”
I tried to sit up.
Pain tore through me.
A nurse rushed over.
“Emily, don’t move.”
“My baby.”
“She’s alive.”
I collapsed back against the pillow.
Alive.
I started crying.
“Where is she?”
“NICU.”
“Why?”
“She was born with breathing difficulties and some blood loss, but she’s stable.”
“Can I see her?”
“Soon.”
I looked around.
“Ryan?”
The nurse hesitated.
“He’s outside.”
“I don’t want him in here.”
“I understand.”
She checked my IV.
Then paused.
“There are police officers waiting to speak with you.”
“About Jessica?”
“Yes.”
“And something else.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
Before she could answer, the door opened.
A detective entered.
Woman.
Late forties.
Gray suit.
Calm eyes.
“Emily Carter?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Detective Laura Bennett.”
She pulled a chair beside my bed.
“I’m investigating the assault outside your doctor’s office.”
“Okay.”
“But I also need to ask about something officers found in Jessica Monroe’s vehicle.”
My heart started pounding.
“What?”
Detective Bennett placed a clear evidence bag on the table.
Inside was a small glass vial.
A prescription label was attached.
My name was printed across it.
Emily Carter.
I stared.
“What is that?”
“Midazolam.”
I didn’t understand.
The detective continued.
“It’s a sedative.”
Cold spread through my entire body.
“We also found photographs of your house.”
I couldn’t speak.
“Some were taken approximately eight months ago.”
My eyes filled with tears.
Then she placed another evidence bag beside the first.
Inside was a key.
My house key.
“How did she get that?”
“That’s what we’re trying to determine.”
She leaned closer.
“Emily, do you know a man named Marcus Hale?”
“No.”
Her expression remained controlled.
But I saw something in her eyes.
Recognition.
“Why?”
“Because Jessica made a phone call after the collision.”
“To him?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Detective Bennett hesitated.
Then answered.
“She said, ‘It failed again. Ryan still thinks this is about the baby.’”
A chill went through me.
“What does that mean?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Did you arrest him?”
“We haven’t found him.”
“Who is he?”
The detective studied me.
“That’s complicated.”
“Tell me.”
She reached into her folder.
Then placed a photograph in front of me.
A man.
Maybe forty.
Dark hair.
Expensive suit.
A face I had never seen before.
Except…
My breath caught.
There was something familiar about his eyes.
I stared harder.
Then I realized why.
They looked like Ryan’s.
I looked at Detective Bennett.
“Who is he?”
May you like
She answered quietly.
“Marcus Hale is Ryan’s half brother.”
