Chapter 3
With the ultrasound report gripped tightly in my hand, I walked up to the second floor of the apartment, my heart pounding.
I stared at the upper right corner of the scan. There, in that faint shadow, a tiny life was taking shape, six weeks old.
The study door was left slightly ajar, a cold white light spilling out.
"Guys, don't spam hate. I'm seriously homeless right now," Sophie said.
Sophie's voice floated out from the room.
Brandon was standing just out of the camera's view, his voice low.
"Sorry, I knocked the cable loose earlier. Give us a break, guys," he said.
I glanced down at the ultrasound report.
I clenched the paper in my hand, then reached out and grabbed the cold metal doorknob.
The chat on the screen suddenly went wild, comments flying by in a blur.
Hate comments completely took over the chat, filling the screen.
Brandon's face turned cold as he spun around.
He stepped in front of the camera, his broad back blocking the view of Sophie, protecting her from the barrage of comments.
But Sophie suddenly jumped to her feet.
She grabbed Brandon's sleeve and pointed at the screen.
"Brandon, look. We're number one in the city!" she exclaimed.
I pushed open the half-open door.
The wooden door slammed against the wall with a dull thud.
Brandon turned around.
He saw it was me, but his shoulders stayed tight, and his brows were still knotted.
"Evelyn? Why are you up here?" he asked.
He took a step forward.
"It's a mess in here. Go chill in the master bedroom for now," he said.
He barely finished speaking when Sophie stumbled into the table leg.
The heavy metal studio light, almost as tall as she was, wobbled and toppled toward her.
"Ah!" Sophie cried out.
Brandon's face went pale in an instant.
He lunged forward, twisting sharply to make room, and reached out to grab the falling light stand.
His elbow slammed into my shoulder.
The force was brutal, knocking me right out the door.
The door slammed shut right in front of me.
I heard the lock click into place.
He locked me out.
The hallway was dim.
Suddenly, my foot slipped out from under me.
I went tumbling down the steep wooden stairs.
The hard edges of the steps battered my joints, and I hit the landing hard at the turn.
My vision faded, a shrill ringing stabbing through my ears.
A violent cramp ripped through the depths of my belly.
My limbs went completely numb, and I couldn't even muster the strength to curl up.
A heavy thud rattled the door upstairs.
Brandon shouted from behind the door.
"Evelyn, will you knock it off already?" he yelled. "Do you have to make noise out there and ruin the stream?"
Cold sweat soaked my back.
Warm liquid slowly seeped out from beneath me, the metallic tang of blood spreading through the air.
My fingers twitched slightly.
I fumbled for my phone in my coat pocket and pulled up the number I'd kept pinned for three years.
The call connected.
An impatient sigh came through the receiver.
"What is it now? Can't it wait?" Brandon said, sounding annoyed.
My breath caught in my throat, my voice coming out hoarse and broken.
"Brandon, help me..." I managed to choke out.
"Enough. Stop making a scene," Brandon cut me off, his voice cold and unyielding.
He didn't even let me finish.
"Deal with it yourself. Sophie's not in a good place right now, and I have to stay and watch her," he said.
The call was cut off.
The phone screen faded in the dark hallway.
I bit down hard on my lip, the metallic taste of blood snapping me back to reality.
With trembling fingers, I dialed 911.
Before my vision went dark, the door upstairs was left slightly ajar, and I could faintly hear Brandon's voice, soft and comforting, murmuring to Sophie.
I closed my eyes, letting my phone slip from my limp hand.
I understood then that a person lying alone in her own blood didn't need to wait for anyone to come save her.