Chapter 3 - The Longest Twelve Minutes
The ambulance doors shut, cutting off the glittering wedding and the terrible look on Ivy's face. Dean climbed in beside me after Dalia promised to keep our daughter with her until my mother could get there.
"She won't be alone," Dalia said. "You have my word."
Outside, rain slid down the hotel windows. Inside, the paramedic clipped a blood-pressure cuff around my arm and tried to find our baby's heartbeat again.
His name tag said RUIZ. I stared at it because names were easier than fear.
"What's happening?" I asked.
"Your baby's heart rate is lower than we'd like," he said carefully. "The hospital has an obstetric team waiting."
Dean leaned forward. "Is she going to be okay?"
Ruiz didn't offer the lie we both wanted. "We're doing everything we can."
Pain came in hard waves. Each one stole another piece of my control. I tried to remember my last morning at home: Ivy refusing oatmeal, Dean burning the toast, the baby pushing one sharp heel against my ribs. Ordinary things. Things that belonged to somebody who could still assume tomorrow would come.
"I was supposed to tell you tonight," I managed.
"Tell me what?"
"The baby name. I finally picked one."
He gripped my hand. "Tell me when we get there."
"Mae," I said. "If she's a girl, Mae. Your grandmother's name."
Dean pressed my knuckles to his mouth. "Mae it is."
My phone should have been in my purse. On it were photographs of six housing-repair invoices with matching reference numbers, three vendor accounts that led to the same mailbox, and a voicemail from a contractor begging me not to tell Maren he'd talked. Without those files, it might become my word against the Mercer family's.
But I didn't care about the money right then. I cared about the silence in my belly.
At the hospital, nurses rolled me through bright doors and began asking questions. A doctor with silver-rimmed glasses introduced herself as Dr. Ellis.
"Laurel, I believe the impact has caused a placental abruption," she said. "That means part of the placenta may have separated. We need to deliver your baby urgently."
"Today?" I heard myself say. "She's not due for six weeks."
"Today."
Dean signed the consent forms with a shaking hand. As they pushed me toward surgery, I caught his sleeve.
"Don't let Maren near Ivy," I said.
May you like
His eyes filled. "I promise."
A machine began to beep faster. Dr. Ellis glanced at the screen and said, "We cannot wait another minute."
