Chapter 2
The voice was rough, low, and laced with a threat that hung thick in the air.
“Vanessa, you have 48 hours or I tell Daniel everything about the fire. You know what you did. You know who paid the price.”
The recording cut out.
Silence hit the hallway harder than my fall had.
Vanessa’s face went white.
Not pale.
Bone white, like all the blood had drained straight to her feet.
She lunged for Daniel’s phone.
“Delete that!” she screamed. “That’s a lie! He’s blackmailing me!”
Daniel flinched away from her, his eyes still locked on the screen.
He looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time.
“Vanessa,” he said, his voice hollow. “What fire?”
She ignored him.
She ran to the security camera on the wall, grabbed the base, and ripped it straight out of the drywall.
Wires snapped and sparked against the paint.
“You don’t get to use this against me,” she snarled.
Then she turned to run for the door.
Daniel moved faster than I’d ever seen him move.
He caught her arm before she could twist the lock.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said.
The front of his shirt was still wet from where I’d been bleeding on it.
His knuckles were white where he held her.
Vanessa twisted and kicked, her perfect hair falling out of its bun, her red lipstick smudged into a snarl.
“Let go of me! She’s making you do this! She’s always hated me!”
I tried to sit up.
A fresh wave of pain ripped through my lower back and I cried out.
Daniel’s head snapped toward me.
In that split second, Vanessa wrenched free.
She ran out the front door and down the porch steps, her heels clicking loud against the concrete.
Daniel started to go after her.
Then he looked at me.
I was curled on the floor, my hands clamped to my stomach, my legs starting to shake.
I felt warm wetness seep through my sweatpants.
My water had broken.
“Daniel,” I whimpered. “The baby’s coming.”
He forgot all about Vanessa.
He dropped to his knees beside me, his hands hovering like he was scared to touch me and break something else.
“I got you,” he said, over and over. “I got you, baby, I’m here.”
He pulled his phone out and dialed 911.
His voice shook when he gave the address.
“My wife is eight months pregnant, she fell down the stairs, her water just broke—please hurry.”
He hung up and brushed the hair off my face.
His hand was ice cold.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
I didn’t answer.
I couldn’t.
All I could think about was the recording.
The fire.
What had Vanessa done?
And how long had Daniel known?
The sirens started wailing ten blocks away.
They got closer and closer until the red and blue lights were flashing through the front windows, painting the walls in blood and ocean.
Two paramedics burst through the door.
They took one look at me and went into action.
One cut my sweatpants open with scissors.
The other strapped a blood pressure cuff to my arm and pressed a Doppler to my stomach.
“Fetal heart rate is 180,” she said, sharp and urgent. “Too fast. We need to move now.”
They lifted me onto a backboard.
I grabbed Daniel’s hand as they wheeled me out.
“Please don’t let her get away with this,” I said.
He squeezed my fingers so hard they went numb.
“I won’t,” he said. “I promise.”
I wanted to believe him.
God, I wanted to believe him more than I wanted to breathe.
But as they loaded me into the ambulance, I saw him pull his phone out and dial a number.
I saw his jaw tighten.
I heard the first word he said when the person on the other end picked up.
“Vanessa.”
The ambulance doors slammed shut.
The siren screamed to life.
I lay on the gurney, the paramedic sticking an IV in my arm, and I felt my heart crack clean down the middle.
He was calling her.
While our baby fought for its life, my husband was on the phone with the woman who had tried to kill us both.
The ride to the hospital was a blur of pain and bright lights.
They wheeled me straight into triage.
A doctor I didn’t know shone a light in my eyes and asked me a hundred questions I could barely answer.
“Did you lose consciousness?”
“Can you feel your legs?”
“When was the last time you felt the baby move?”
I answered in grunts and gasps, my eyes darting to the door every two seconds.
Where was Daniel?
He had promised he’d be right behind me.
Thirty minutes passed.
Forty.
The doctor came back, her face tight.
“Your daughter is in distress,” she said. “The fall caused placental abruption. We need to do an emergency C-section right now or we could lose her.”
My blood turned to slush in my veins.
“Daughter?” I whispered.
We hadn’t found out the sex.
We’d wanted it to be a surprise.
“A little girl,” the doctor said, softer now. “She’s a fighter, but she needs out now. Do I have your consent?”
I nodded so fast my neck ached.
“Yes. Whatever you need. Just save her.”
She left to prep the OR.
A nurse came in to wheel me away.
I grabbed her arm before she could move the bed.
“My husband,” I said. “Daniel Carter. He was supposed to be here. Can you check if he’s at the front desk?”
She smiled gently and patted my hand.
“I’ll send someone to look, honey. You just focus on that baby.”
She wheeled me out of the room.
As we turned the corner toward the elevators, I saw him.
He was standing by the vending machines, his back to me, his phone pressed to his ear.
He was wearing the same shirt he’d had on at the house.
There was still a faint bloodstain on the cuff.
And I could smell her perfume from ten feet away.
Vanessa’s sweet, cloying jasmine.
It was all over him.
He said something quiet into the phone, then nodded.
“I’ll make this go away,” I heard him say. “Just stay calm. Don’t talk to anyone. I’ll handle it.”
The elevator doors opened.
The nurse pushed me inside.
The last thing I saw before the doors slid shut was Daniel shoving his phone in his pocket and turning toward the exit.
He wasn’t coming to the OR.
He was leaving.
I closed my eyes as the elevator began to move.
Somewhere in the distance, a monitor beeped fast and frantic.
May you like
I couldn’t tell if it was the baby’s heart.
Or mine.
