Chapter 3
The next morning, I saw my daughter for the first time.
She was tiny.
Too tiny.
She lay beneath a clear incubator with wires attached to her chest and a knitted pink cap covering her head.
My knees almost failed.
“Can I touch her?”
The nurse smiled.
“Put your hand through here.”
I slid my fingers inside.
My daughter’s hand curled around one finger.
I cried instantly.
“Hi, Grace.”
Mom stood behind me.
“You named her?”
“I decided months ago.”
I looked down at my baby.
“Ryan wanted Diane.”
Mom’s mouth tightened.
“I’m glad you chose Grace.”
For twenty minutes, nothing outside that room mattered.
Not Ryan.
Not Diane.
Not the police.
Then my phone began vibrating.
Twenty-three missed calls.
Ryan’s sister.
Ryan’s cousin.
People from church.
Neighbors.
Messages piled up.
How could you have your husband arrested?
Diane says you attacked her.
Ryan loves you.
Pregnancy hormones can make women emotional.
My hands shook.
Mom took the phone.
“Stop reading.”
“They believe him.”
“Some people believe the first lie they hear.”
“He’s telling everyone I’m crazy.”
“That’s what men like Ryan do when they lose control.”
I looked at her.
“You keep saying things like you already knew.”
Mom went silent.
“Tell me.”
She glanced toward Grace.
Then toward the hallway.
“Not here.”
We went to a private waiting room.
Mom closed the door.
“Six months ago, Ryan contacted me.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“He told me you wanted no relationship with me.”
“That’s what he told me about you.”
“I suspected that.”
“Why didn’t you come?”
“Because he threatened you.”
I stared at her.
Mom pulled out her phone and opened an old message.
If you show up here, Emily will pay for it.
Another message followed.
She’s pregnant. Don’t make this stressful for her.
My skin went cold.
“He threatened me?”
“Indirectly. Enough that I started looking into him.”
“You had him investigated?”
“I asked someone I trusted to check public records. Nothing illegal.”
“And?”
Mom inhaled slowly.
“Ryan has debt.”
“How much?”
“More than two hundred thousand dollars.”
I laughed because the number sounded impossible.
“We don’t have that kind of debt.”
“You don’t.”
I stopped laughing.
“He does.”
Mom showed me copies of loans.
Private gambling transfers.
Credit accounts.
Cash advances.
Then one document made me freeze.
A life insurance policy.
My name.
Two million dollars.
Beneficiary: Ryan Carter.
“I never agreed to this.”
“That’s what worries me.”
I felt sick.
Mom crouched beside me.
“I’m not saying he planned to hurt you.”
“But you’re thinking it.”
“I’m saying we don’t ignore anything anymore.”
The door suddenly opened.
Captain Harris entered.
His expression told me there was more.
“We confirmed the video.”
I stood.
“It recorded everything?”
“Enough.”
He showed me a still image.
Diane’s hand raised.
My face turning.
Ryan’s hands on my arms.
Me hitting the counter.
Then another image.
My water glass flying after they had already attacked me.
“Self-defense,” Mom said.
“That will be for civilian authorities to evaluate, but the sequence is clear.”
I exhaled.
Captain Harris did not.
“There’s another problem.”
Of course there was.
“What?”
“Diane Carter was released pending further investigation.”
My mother’s eyes hardened.
“Why?”
“She was not detained when officers arrived. Local authorities interviewed her later.”
I looked toward the hallway.
“Does she know where I am?”
“No.”
My phone buzzed again.
Unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
Then a message appeared.
You destroyed my son’s life.
Another message followed.
You think your general mother can protect you forever?
Mom read it.
Captain Harris immediately photographed the screen.
Then a third message appeared.
Enjoy your baby while you can.
The room went silent.
I stopped breathing.
Mom took my hand.
“Emily, listen carefully.”
Her voice was no longer comforting.
It was commanding.
“You do not leave this floor without security.”
I stared at the message.
May you like
Grace was only twenty-four hours old.
And Diane had just threatened my child.
