“Let her suffer,” my husband sneered outside my delivery room. After 3 years of brutal abuse, I heard his mom whisper their final plan…

Through the sound of my own retching, I whispered directly into her ear, my voice barely a breath.

“They are going to steal my baby. Please. Help me.”

Chloe’s hand, which was rubbing circles on my back, suddenly stopped dead.

She didn’t gasp. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t look at Mark or Eleanor.

For a terrifying, agonizing five seconds, she did absolutely nothing.

I squeezed my eyes shut, pure dread washing over me. She didn’t hear me. Or she thinks I’m crazy. Oh God, I just ruined everything.

I slumped back onto the pillows, gasping for air, letting go of her scrubs.

Chloe pulled the pink basin away. Her face was completely neutral, giving absolutely nothing away.

“There we go, all done,” she said in her cheerful, professional voice. She walked over to the sink to rinse the basin.

My heart shattered into a million pieces. She was going to ignore it. She thought I was just a delirious woman in the agonizing throes of transition labor.

“Well, everything looks good on the monitors,” Chloe said, turning back to face the room. “But Sarah’s blood pressure is dipping just a little bit. It’s totally normal during transition, but I want to get some fluids in her to be safe.”

She looked directly at Mark.

“Dad, I need a massive favor,” Chloe said, her tone bright but urgent. “Our ice machine on this floor is broken, and Sarah is severely dehydrated. I can’t leave my patient while I’m hanging these IV bags. Could you run down to the cafeteria on the first floor and fill this up with the good crushed ice?”

She held out a massive, two-liter plastic hospital jug.

Mark frowned, clearly annoyed at being given a task. “Can’t you just call someone to bring it up?”

“I could, but it might take twenty minutes, and I really need her chewing on ice right now to keep her oral hydration up before she pushes,” Chloe insisted, thrusting the jug into his hands. “It’s super important for the baby’s heart rate.”

The moment she mentioned the baby, Eleanor’s head snapped around.

“Go, Mark,” Eleanor ordered sharply. “Do what the nurse says.”

“Fine,” Mark grumbled, snatching the jug. He glared at me one last time before stalking out of the room.

The door closed.

It was just me, Eleanor, and Chloe.

Chloe busied herself with the IV pole for a moment, untangling the plastic tubing.

“Actually, Grandma,” Chloe said, turning to Eleanor with a perfectly polite smile. “Since Dad is getting the ice, could you do me a huge favor and grab some extra receiving blankets from the warmer down the hall? The closet is just past the nurse’s station. I want to have them ready for when the baby gets here. They go incredibly fast on a busy morning like this.”

Eleanor narrowed her eyes. She looked from Chloe, to me, and back to Chloe. Her predatory instincts were tingling. She didn’t want to leave the room. She didn’t want to leave me unattended.

“I’m sure you have plenty of blankets in those drawers,” Eleanor said coldly, pointing to the medical cart.

“Those are cold,” Chloe said simply, matching Eleanor’s gaze without blinking. “We need the ones from the warmer to prevent infant hypothermia immediately after birth. Unless you want your grandson shivering the moment he’s born?”

Chloe was good. She knew exactly which button to push.

Eleanor’s face tightened. She hated being challenged, but she couldn’t argue with infant safety, not when she was playing the role of the obsessed, devoted grandmother.

“Fine,” Eleanor clipped. “Just past the nurse’s station?”

“Yep, door on the left,” Chloe smiled.

Eleanor walked slowly to the door. She paused with her hand on the handle, turning back to give me a look so filled with venom it made my stomach churn.

Then, she stepped out into the hallway.

The door clicked shut.

The second the latch caught, Chloe’s entire demeanor transformed.

The cheerful, bubbly nurse vanished. She dropped the IV tubing, lunged across the room, and locked the hospital door from the inside.

She rushed back to my bed, her eyes wide, intense, and deadly serious.

She grabbed my face with both hands, forcing me to look directly into her eyes.

“Listen to me very carefully,” Chloe whispered rapidly, her voice trembling slightly. “You have maybe three minutes before they get back. Tell me exactly what is happening, and tell me right now.”

CHAPTER 3

“Listen to me very carefully,” Chloe whispered rapidly, her voice trembling slightly. “You have maybe three minutes before they get back. Tell me exactly what is happening, and tell me right now.”

I didn’t have time to hesitate. I didn’t have time to wonder if this was a trap. The pure, desperate intensity in Chloe’s eyes told me she was my only lifeline in this entire building.

I grabbed her wrists. My hands were slick with cold sweat.

“My husband has been physically abusing me for three years,” I choked out, the words tumbling from my mouth like shattered glass. “His mother helps him hide it. They trapped me here. I heard them whispering in the hallway when Dr. Miller brought the epidural paperwork.”

Chloe’s eyes widened, but she didn’t interrupt. She stayed perfectly still, listening to every single word.

“Dr. Miller is a friend of Eleanor’s,” I continued, my breathing shallow and fast. “The paperwork wasn’t just for the epidural. It had power of attorney and a medical release hidden inside. If I sign it, they are going to declare me mentally unfit the second my baby is born. They have a psychiatric hold already arranged. They are going to lock me in the psych ward and take my son. Please. You have to believe me.”

Tears streamed down my face, dripping onto my hospital gown. I braced myself for the look of pity. I braced myself for her to pat my hand and tell me that labor hormones were making me hallucinate.