Chapter 1
My wife, Claire, was seven months pregnant when she suddenly started bleeding heavily in the middle of the night and lost the baby.
But the doctor, Dr. Mark Rivers, blocked me from entering the emergency room.
"Why did you force your pregnant wife to have sex last night?" Dr. Rivers demanded.
I was completely blindsided.
"I slept at the office last night. I didn't even go home," I said.
Dr. Rivers slammed the report down in front of me.
"Still making excuses? Her contractions were triggered by intercourse, and the report shows fresh semen residue。
"You endangered an unborn child. The hospital has already called the police," he added.
Claire and I had been sleeping in separate rooms for half a year.
Then whose fresh semen residue was it?
*****
"Adam, Claire's bleeding! The sheets are soaked in blood. You need to get home now!" Linda's voice was frantic on the phone.
By the time I got home, the ambulance was already parked downstairs.
Claire was curled up on the stretcher, her face as pale as a sheet, her fingers gripping her phone so tightly her knuckles were white.
I rushed over and called out to her, but she didn't even look at me. She just hid her phone under the blanket.
For a moment, I thought she was just scared and in pain.
Right then, Dr. Rivers threw the report hard against my chest.
The sharp corner scraped my chin, the pain making it go numb.
"Placental abruption, severe contractions, and fresh semen residue. Mr. Reed, you'd better think twice before you speak," Dr. Rivers said coldly.
In the hallway, nurses, security guards, and other patients' families were all staring at me.
Linda Harris, my mother-in-law, lunged at me from her chair and slapped me hard across the face.
"Adam, are you even human? She was seven months pregnant!" Linda screamed.
My ears were ringing.
I steadied myself against the wall, forcing down my anger. "Linda, I didn't come home last night. I was at the office," I said.
Linda's sobs grew even louder."How can you still lie? Claire's already suffering like this, and you're still trying to smear her?" Linda cried out.
David Evans, my father-in-law, was squatting against the wall, smoking. The hospital was a no-smoking zone, but he was just pretending not to hear the nurse's warnings.
Cigarette ash littered the floor.
"Stop arguing. The baby's not even born yet," David said.
That sentence felt like a knife to my throat.
The baby.
The little one I said goodnight to every night, my hand resting on Claire's belly.
Just last week at the check-up, I heard his heartbeat, galloping like a tiny horse.
The emergency room door cracked open.
A nurse stepped out, holding a basin of blood-soaked gauze, her voice barely above a whisper as she called, "Family of Claire Evans, I need your signature!"
I snatched the pen from her hand.
But Dr. Rivers slammed his hand down on the consent form.
"You can't sign this," he said.
I froze.
"I'm her husband," I said.
Dr. Rivers looked at me like I was nothing.
"You're suspected of causing your wife's miscarriage. Until the police arrive, her mother will sign for her," he said.
Linda snatched the pen and signed her name, her hand trembling.
I stood there, my hands numb and useless.
My phone buzzed.
It was a message from Chloe, the office admin.
Chloe texted, "Hey Adam, did you crash in the conference room last night? The cleaning crew found your jacket there this morning."
I showed the message on my phone to Dr. Rivers.
"See? I have proof," I said.
He glanced at it and gave a cold chuckle.
"What does a chat log prove? Mr. Reed, plenty of abusers act perfectly calm after they've done something like this," Dr. Rivers said.
When Dr. Rivers dropped the word "abuser," it hit me like a ton of bricks. People in the hallway started whispering behind my back.
"He looks like such a nice guy, but he really did that?" someone whispered.
"She was seven months pregnant, and he was still messing with her? That's just heartless," another person muttered.
I tried to speak, but my throat burned with a bitter, metallic taste.
Just then, a stifled sob came from inside the emergency room.
The nurse pushed the door open, her eyes red and swollen.
"The baby didn't make it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Linda let out a piercing scream and collapsed to the floor.
My knees buckled, and my hand braced against the icy tiles of the wall to keep myself from falling.
Dr. Rivers's voice came from above, cold and sharp.
He said flatly, "Adam, the police are here."
At the end of the hallway, two officers were heading straight for me.
Suddenly, Linda scrambled up and grabbed my pant leg, her grip like a vice.
"Officers, it's him! He's the one who killed my grandson!" Linda screamed.
The officers flipped open their notebooks.
"Mr. Reed, please cooperate and give us your statement," one of them said.
The emergency room door opened again, and Claire was wheeled out.
She looked so fragile lying on the hospital bed, her eyes barely a slit.
I rushed over, my voice trembling.
"Claire, tell them I wasn't home last night," I said.
Claire's lashes quivered slightly.
Linda rushed to the bedside.
"Claire, don't be scared. Mom's right here. If anyone tries to hurt you, Mom's got your back!" Linda said, her voice trembling with worry.
The wheels of the hospital bed screeched as they rolled across the floor.
Claire turned her head away, avoiding my gaze.
Her voice was hoarse as she said, "I'm just so tired."
The officer's pen hovered over the paper, frozen in place.
I watched as she was wheeled into the room, the IV in her hand rocking softly with the sheets.
Dr. Rivers stepped in front of me, blocking my way.
"You can't go in right now," he said.
The door closed in front of me, and through the crack, I saw Linda holding Claire's hand, sobbing.
And Claire's other hand was still gripping her phone, her fingers locked around it like her life depended on it.