Chapter 5 - FIRST BREATH
Julian stared at the puddle on the floor. For a fleeting second, I saw the ghost of the man I thought I had married—the man who had painted the nursery yellow and built the crib.
"Mom, we can't do this," he whispered. "She needs a hospital."
"Grab the watch, Julian!"
"She's having my child!" Julian yelled back, his panic finally overriding his mother’s control.
He lunged forward, but not toward me. He shoved his mother back, grabbed his phone from the coffee table, and dialed 911. Diane cursed viciously, dropping the crowbar to snatch the letters from the lockbox. I managed to slip the silver watch into the deep pocket of my robe just as Julian knelt beside me.
"Breathe, Sarah, just breathe," he panicked.
The next few hours were a blur of sirens, blinding hospital lights, and agonizing pain.
I was trapped in a nightmare where my body was tearing itself apart, and the two people standing next to my hospital bed wanted to destroy me. Diane had insisted on riding in the ambulance. She stood in the corner of the delivery room like a vulture, clutching her large leather purse where I knew she had stuffed my father’s letters.
The burns on my arm screamed in agony with every contraction.
"Push, Sarah!" the nurse urged.
I focused all my remaining strength on the monitor, on the tiny heartbeat echoing through the room. I had to survive this. I had to get her out safely.
With one final, earth-shattering cry, the pain suddenly vanished.
A second later, a new sound filled the room.
A loud, furious, beautiful wail.
"It’s a girl," the doctor smiled, placing a tiny, warm weight onto my chest.
Lily.
I wrapped my uninjured arm around her slippery, fragile body. Tears streamed down my face. She was perfect. Ten toes, a full head of dark hair, and bright, angry eyes.
Julian leaned over the bed. "She's beautiful, Sarah."
He reached out to touch Lily’s cheek. I pulled her closer to me, my entire body tensing.
"Give her some space, Dad," a stern, unfamiliar nurse said, stepping between Julian and the bed. She was older, with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense name tag that read Helen.
Julian backed away, looking chastised.
"I'm going to take the baby to be weighed and cleaned," Helen said softly to me. "Don't worry, Mama. She’ll be right back."
As Helen leaned down to lift Lily from my chest, she subtly pressed something small and hard into the palm of my hand.
I closed my fingers around it instantly.
"I think Mom needs to rest," Helen announced to the room. "Husband and grandmother, please wait in the hall. Hospital policy for the first hour of recovery."
Diane looked furious, but Helen practically shoved them out the door.
Once the door clicked shut, I opened my hand.
It wasn't medical tape. It was a cheap, plastic flip phone. Wrapped around it was a small piece of hospital gauze with a message scribbled in blue pen.
Mrs. Patel told us everything. Don’t go back to that house. Call this number.
I stared at the note.
Mrs. Patel. My neighbor. The one who had called the ambulance when I was burned. She hadn't just heard the scream; she had seen through the window.
I flipped open the phone and dialed the ten digits.
It rang twice.
"Sarah?" a deep, steady voice answered.
May you like
"Who is this?" I whispered, my voice hoarse.
"This is Detective Miller," the voice said. "I’ve seen your cloud footage. If you want to keep that baby safe, you need to listen to exactly what I say next."
