Chapter 2

A nurse, her face grim, approached me. "We need to get Dr. Miller to sign off on your C-section, Anna. Your pelvis is definitely fractured."

"Where is he?" I gasped, each breath a struggle.

"He's with your cousin," she said, her voice low. "He's insisting on a trial of labor for you, says a vaginal birth is preferable despite your injuries."

"But… I can't," I whispered. The pain was a vise, crushing me.

She showed me a form. Ethan' s signature was already on it, authorizing the delay, citing his medical authority.

He' d written a note: "Patient has excellent pain coping mechanisms. Lamaze proficient. Avoid unnecessary surgery."

Lamaze. I' d read a pamphlet. We' d never practiced. He was lying.

He was actively stopping them from helping me.

To be with Jessica.

The nurse looked helpless. "He's the lead trauma surgeon on duty. His word is… difficult to override immediately."

Tears welled in my eyes, hot and stinging.

My baby. My baby needed to come out.

The contractions were relentless, but I couldn't push. The fracture made it impossible.

"I need him," I pleaded, "Please, find Dr. Thorne, the ER doc. Someone."

Another nurse rushed in. "Dr. Thorne is on his way. We've paged Dr. Miller multiple times."

"He's not responding," the first nurse said. "He's scrubbed in. With Jessica."

"Scrubbed in?" I asked, confused. "For what?"

"She decided she couldn't handle natural birth after all," the second nurse said, her tone clipped. "Demanded a C-section. Dr. Miller is performing it."

He was in an operating room, cutting open my cousin, while I lay here, broken and bleeding, my own baby in distress.

The pain intensified, and a new, terrifying sensation started – a feeling of pressure, of something terribly wrong inside.

The baby monitor next to me started beeping erratically.

"Fetal distress!" a voice shouted. "Meconium aspiration, heart rate dropping!"

My vision started to blur.

The room spun.

Ethan was with Jessica.

And my baby was dying.