Chương 2
“Unbelievable,” he muttered.
The door opened.
“Ryan.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
He stepped outside and pulled the door shut.
Claire remained on her knees until the sound of his car disappeared.
The house became offensively normal.
The refrigerator hummed.
A lawn mower coughed somewhere down the block.
On the kitchen counter, Ryan had left the birthday card he had bought for Evelyn, and the gold envelope looked absurdly cheerful beside the broken glass.
Claire got one foot beneath herself.
Then she felt warmth between her legs.
For one irrational second she thought her water had broken.
She looked down.
Blood streaked the inside of her calf.
Her body went cold.
She grabbed her phone with fingers that would not cooperate.
The emergency operator answered before Claire managed to take a proper breath.
“911, what is the address of your emergency?”
Claire gave it.
“What’s happening?”
“I’m thirty-eight weeks pregnant.”
Her voice cracked.
“I’m bleeding.”
The operator’s tone sharpened without becoming louder.
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“Is your front door unlocked?”
Claire looked toward it.
“I think so.”
“I need you to stay where you are if you can do that safely.”
“My husband took the car.”
“That’s okay, Claire.”
Hearing her own name steadied her for half a second.
“We have help coming.”
Another contraction hit.
Claire curled onto her side.
The operator kept speaking, asking about the amount of blood, the pain, whether she could feel the baby moving.
Claire pressed both hands against her stomach.
She could not remember the last movement.
That terrified her more than the blood.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Claire, listen to me.”
“I can’t feel her.”
“Help is almost there.”
The sirens arrived faintly and grew louder.
Claire began crying before she understood she was crying.
The front door opened.
A man called her name.
“In here.”
Two paramedics entered, followed by a third carrying equipment.
The oldest of them crouched beside her.
“I’m Marcus.”
His voice was calm and practical.
“We’re going to take care of you.”
“My baby isn’t moving.”
“We’ll check everything we can, but first I need to look after you.”
He asked questions while his partner wrapped a blood-pressure cuff around Claire’s arm.
The machine beeped.
The younger paramedic looked at the number and then at Marcus.
That look was enough.
“What?”
Claire asked.
Marcus did not pretend.
“Your pressure is very high, and with the bleeding and pain, you need to be evaluated immediately.”
“Is she alive?”
“I can’t answer that from here.”
“Please.”
“I know.”
He squeezed her shoulder once.
“We’re moving.”
The ride became fragments.
A ceiling light.
A radio crackling.
Marcus telling someone over the phone that they had a thirty-eight-week pregnancy, significant bleeding, severe abdominal pain, hypertension, and concern for placental abruption.
Claire heard the phrase emergency obstetrics.
She tried Ryan again.
Voicemail.
She called a second time.
Voicemail.
On the third attempt, someone answered.
Music and voices flooded the line.
“Ryan?”
There was a pause.
Then Evelyn said, “Claire?”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Where’s Ryan?”
“He’s taking pictures with his uncle.”
“I’m in an ambulance.”
Silence replaced the restaurant noise.
“What?”
“I’m bleeding.”
Another voice spoke near Evelyn, too muffled to understand.
“Why are you calling me?”
“Because your son won’t answer.”
Evelyn inhaled.
“Claire, is this really necessary tonight?”
Claire lowered the phone.
Marcus looked at her but said nothing.
Something inside Claire went still.
She ended the call.
At the hospital, hands surrounded her.
A nurse cut away part of her dress.
Another nurse asked about allergies while someone started an IV.
A doctor with silver-framed glasses pressed an ultrasound probe against Claire’s abdomen and stared at the monitor.
“What is it?”
Claire asked.
The doctor moved the probe.
“Doctor?”
“I’m looking.”
“Tell me if she’s alive.”
The doctor’s face softened.
“I have a heartbeat.”
Claire made a broken sound and covered her mouth.
“But we have a problem.”
The relief lasted less than three seconds.
The doctor introduced herself as Dr. Patel and explained that the bleeding and fetal heart pattern made placental abruption a serious concern.
They needed to deliver the baby.
“Now?”
“Now.”
“My husband isn’t here.”
Dr. Patel held Claire’s gaze.
“We don’t have time to wait for him.”
A nurse asked whether there was anyone else Claire wanted called.
Claire nearly said no.
Then she remembered the number she had spent years training herself not to use except on birthdays and Christmas.
“My brother.”
“Name?”
“Daniel Mercer.”
The nurse’s pen paused.
“Relationship?”
“My brother.”
Claire swallowed.
“He’s at Fort Bragg.”
The nurse corrected gently, “Fort Liberty?”
“He still calls it Bragg when he’s annoyed.”
It was a stupid detail.
Claire laughed once and immediately started crying.
The nurse squeezed her hand.
“What’s his number?”
Claire gave it from memory.
Daniel answered on the first ring.
The nurse identified herself and asked whether he was Daniel Mercer.
Claire heard his voice through the speaker.
“Yes.”
“This is Wake County Medical Center, and I’m calling on behalf of your sister.”
There was a beat of complete silence.
“What happened to Claire?”
The nurse looked at Claire.
Claire reached for the phone.
“Danny.”
His voice changed instantly.
“Claire?”
“I need you.”
“What happened?”
“They’re taking the baby out.”
“Where’s Ryan?”
Claire could not answer.
Daniel repeated the question, slower this time.
“Claire, where is your husband?”
“At his mother’s birthday.”
The silence on the line felt different now.
It had weight.
“Did he know?”
Claire shut her eyes.
“Yes.”
Daniel breathed through his nose.
“Okay.”
That word frightened her.
“Danny, don’t do anything stupid.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You say that right before you do something.”
A nurse began unlocking the wheels of Claire’s bed.
Daniel’s voice softened.
“Listen to me, bug.”
He had not called her that since they were teenagers.
“I’m coming.”
“You’re hours away.”
“I’m coming.”
“They’re taking my phone.”
“Then give it to the nurse.”
“Danny.”
“I’ll be there.”
May you like
The phone disappeared from Claire’s hand.
Ceiling tiles passed above her as they rushed her toward surgery.
