Chapter 4
I was discharged from the hospital five days after giving birth.
I didn't go home.
Not to the house Cameron and I had bought together.
Not to the place where we had built our life.
Instead, I went to a small, furnished apartment I'd rented online while lying in that hospital bed.
Cameron was furious when he found out.
"You can't do this," he said over the phone. His voice was tight with anger and panic. "You can't take our son and just disappear. We need to be together. We need to work through this."
"The doctors said he can stay in the NICU for another week to monitor his breathing," I told him calmly. "He's not going anywhere. And neither am I. I've moved out, Cameron. Don't come looking for me."
"Amelia—"
I hung up.
The apartment was small.
Plain.
Impersonal.
But it was mine.
For the first time in seven years, I had a space that didn't belong to both of us.
A space where I didn't have to look at photographs of a marriage that had died.
A space where I could breathe.
I spent every possible moment at the hospital with my son.
I named him Ethan.
Strong.
Steadfast.
It suited him.
Cameron came too.
We maintained a fragile, tense truce in front of the incubator.
We spoke only of Ethan's progress.
His weight.
His feeding.
His oxygen levels.
But the air between us crackled with unspoken things.
I watched him.
I watched the way he looked at Ethan.
There was genuine love there.
Genuine remorse.
But it was too late.
And I watched the way he looked at Sophie when she appeared.
She was still hanging around.
Still playing the innocent victim.
But Cameron no longer softened when he looked at her.
He watched her now.
Carefully.
Like he was seeing her for the first time.
She noticed.
And she didn't like it.
One afternoon, she cornered me in the NICU waiting area.
Her usual sweet mask was gone.
Her eyes were hard.
"What did you say to him?" she hissed. "He's been distant. Cold. He's questioning everything."
"I told him the truth," I said.
"He won't believe you," she said. But there was a tremor in her voice. "He loves me."
"He doesn't even know you," I countered. "He loves an illusion you created. And illusions have a way of shattering."
Her hand shot out, grabbing my arm hard.
"You're going to regret this," she whispered. "You think you're so smart? You think you can take him away from me? I have plans, Dr. Grant. Plans that don't include you. And if you get in my way... I will destroy you."
I pulled my arm free.
"Try," I said.
She stormed off.
I stood there, my heart pounding.
She was getting desperate.
And desperate people made mistakes.
Big ones.
That evening, I got a call from an old colleague.
"Amelia," she said. Her voice was strange. "I... I heard some things. Rumors. People are talking."
"Talking about what?"
"About you," she said. "About the delivery. There's a story going around that you were hysterical. That you refused to follow medical advice. That you endangered yourself and the baby because you were... unstable. That Dr. Bennett was just trying to keep things under control."
My blood ran cold.
Sophie.
She was planting stories.
She was rewriting history.
"Who is saying these things?"
"No one will go on record," my colleague said. "But it's spreading. Through the nurses' station. Through the other departments. People are saying you had a breakdown. That maybe you shouldn't be practicing medicine. That maybe you shouldn't be caring for that baby alone."
She hesitated.
"Amelia... be careful. Whoever is doing this... they want to ruin you."
"I know who it is," I said. "And thank you for telling me."
I hung up.
So that was her play.
She would paint me as unstable.
Unfit.
Dangerous.
She would ruin my professional reputation.
And then she would go for custody of Ethan.
I gripped my phone until my knuckles turned white.
She wanted to play dirty.
She wanted to take my son.
I would burn everything to the ground before I let that happen.
The next morning, I went to the hospital early.
I found Cameron in his office.
He looked terrible.
"Have you heard the rumors?" I asked without preamble.
He looked up, his eyes red-rimmed.
"I have," he said quietly. "I've been trying to stamp them out. But they keep popping up. People whispering in hallways. Notes on the bulletin board. Anonymous emails to administration."
"They're not rumors, Cameron," I said. "They're a deliberate campaign. And you know who's behind it."
He looked away.
"I spoke to Sophie," he said. "She denied it. She said people are just looking for someone to blame. She said—"
"She lied," I interrupted. "When are you going to open your eyes? She threatened me yesterday. Grabbed my arm, told me she would destroy me. And now these rumors appear. That's not a coincidence."
He ran a hand through his hair.
"I don't know what to believe anymore," he whispered. "Everything I thought was real... it's all turning to ash."
"Then prove it," I said. "Help me find the truth. Or at least stop protecting her. Because right now, every time you give her the benefit of the doubt, you're helping her destroy me. And eventually... she'll come for you too."
I left him sitting there, surrounded by the ruins of his perfect life.
That afternoon, Sophie made her biggest mistake yet.
She came to my apartment.
She didn't know where I lived.
Not until Cameron mentioned it in a moment of weakness.
She buzzed my building.
I let her up.
I wanted to see what she would do.
She stepped into my apartment, her eyes scanning the small space with disdain.
"Nice place," she sneered. "Quite a step down from the big house. But then... you always did like to play the martyr."
"What do you want, Sophie?"
She turned to face me.
"I want you to stop," she said. "Stop poisoning Cameron against me. Stop digging into things that don't concern you. Sign the papers he's going to send you. Give him primary custody of Ethan. And then disappear. Go somewhere far away. And never come back."
I stared at her.
"Or what?"
"Or I will make sure those rumors become official," she said. Her voice was cold, confident. "I have friends in administration. I have records—carefully documented records—of your erratic behavior during labor. I have witnesses who will say you were hysterical, that you were a danger to yourself and others. I will have your medical license revoked. I will make sure you never see that baby again. And then I will have Cameron, and his career, and his name, and his son. And you will have nothing."
She smiled.
It was the smile of someone who thought she had already won.
"You really should have taken the easy way out, Dr. Grant."
I reached into my pocket.
I pulled out my phone.
I pressed stop on the recording app.
Her smile faded.
"What is that?"
"Everything you just said," I told her. "Every threat. Every admission. Every word about how you manufactured evidence, how you're going to ruin my career, how you're going to take my son. All of it. Recorded."
The blood drained from her face.
"You wouldn't dare," she whispered.
"Try me," I said. "You have exactly twenty-four hours to go to Cameron, to administration, to whoever you need to tell. You will confess to everything. The tray incident. The security footage. The rumors. You will resign your position. And you will never come near me, my son, or Cameron again. If you don't... this recording goes everywhere. The medical board. The police. The press. You'll never practice medicine again. You might even go to jail. Your choice, Sophie."
She stared at me, her eyes filled with hatred and fear.
"You'll regret this," she whispered.
"Twenty-four hours," I said.
She turned and fled.
I sank onto the couch, my legs shaking.
I had her.
Or so I thought.
But I had underestimated just how far she was willing to go.
That night, the hospital called.
There had been an incident in the NICU.
Ethan's medication had been changed.
A nurse had caught it just in time.
Someone had entered the wrong dosage into his chart.
A dosage that would have killed him.
May you like
And the electronic signature on the order...
It was mine.
