Chapter 3

Two days later, contractions woke me at five in the morning.

They were twelve minutes apart.

My doctor had told me to return for another check that day, but Vanessa still had my car. My hospital bag was by the front door, but my ID case and the baby's clothes were missing because they were still in the trunk.

I called Ethan.

The phone rang for a long time before he answered.

"What is it?"

"I need to go to the hospital."

"I'm in a meeting."

I heard dishes clinking in the background.

Then Vanessa's voice drifted through the line.

"Ethan, your coffee's getting cold."

He covered the receiver too late.

I glanced at the time.

5:47 a.m.

"Where are you having a meeting?"

"The hotel is hosting a breakfast session."

"With Vanessa?"

"Other people are here."

The answer came too quickly.

"Take a rideshare to the hospital. I'll come when this is over."

My doctor's previous notes were explicit. After an abnormal fetal heart-rate reading, a pregnant patient having new contractions should not come in alone.

When the call ended, I sent my location to Nora.

Twenty-five minutes later, she appeared at the door in pajama pants and a coat.

The moment she saw me braced against the wall, her face changed.

"Where is Ethan?"

"In a meeting."

Nora did not ask anything else.

As she helped me into the car and guided the seat belt around my stomach, her hands trembled.

"Claire, this isn't the first time. What excuse can you possibly make for him now?"

"I won't make any more."

At the hospital entrance, Nora called for a wheelchair.

After examining me, the doctor said I had not dilated any further, but stress and exhaustion were already affecting the baby's movement. I needed to stay under observation.

A nurse handed me a form.

"Please confirm your emergency contact. If you have more bleeding, regular contractions, or another drop in the baby's heart rate, this is the person we'll call first."

Ethan's name was printed on the first line.

I picked up the pen and crossed it out.

Then I wrote Nora Bennett and her phone number.

Nora stood beside me and laid her hand over mine.

Before leaving the hospital, I opened the tracking app for my car.

The blue dot was in the underground garage of the Aurelia Grand Hotel.

Not at Ethan's office.

Not at the body shop.

My car had entered the garage at 11:40 the previous night and had not moved since. Ethan's phone was in the same building.

I downloaded the vehicle history.

Another message from Vanessa appeared.

"Stop bothering him every time you feel a little uncomfortable. He barely slept last night."

I stared at it, then called Ethan.

"Why does Vanessa know you barely slept last night?"

His voice hardened. "She's worried about you."

"She told me not to bother you."

"Claire, I am not going to listen while you dissect every word she says."

"Then look at the screenshot."

"Enough," he snapped. "Can you stop taking every pregnancy fear out on her? You're putting her under a lot of pressure."

My finger went still above the screen.

In that moment, I finally understood.

He did not fail to see what she was doing.

He refused to see it. As long as he rejected every piece of proof, I could always be dismissed as the unreasonable one.

"All right."

I ended the call and forwarded the hotel location, vehicle history, and Vanessa's messages to Attorney Harper.

Five minutes later, she replied.

"Evidence received. The divorce papers will be delivered tomorrow afternoon."

I signed in to St. Anne's patient portal and removed Ethan as my healthcare proxy.

A notice appeared, warning that he would no longer have access to my records or authority over medical decisions during labor.

I confirmed the change.

If I lost consciousness in the delivery room, Ethan would not get another chance to make any choice for me.