Chapter 2 - TWO LIVING PATIENTS
The helicopter landed directly on the roof of a private trauma hospital outside Denver.
The doors opened before the rotors stopped turning.
A medical team rushed toward us.
Someone shouted my blood pressure.
Someone else called for obstetrics.
Daniel ran beside the stretcher as they pushed me through the doors.
I could barely see.
The ceiling lights blurred into long white streaks.
"My baby."
"We're checking him now," a doctor said.
"Don't let him die."
"We won't."
Another contraction tore through me.
Then came a sudden warm rush.
The doctor looked down.
"Her water broke."
Everything accelerated.
I remember Daniel trying to follow us into surgery.
A nurse stopped him.
"Family only."
His voice cracked.
"I'm her father."
The words hit me strangely.
Her father.
My father.
I wanted to reject them.
I wanted to demand proof.
Instead, I screamed as another wave of pain rolled through me.
Daniel stepped close enough to touch my hand.
"I'll be right outside."
Then the doors closed.
The emergency delivery became a blur.
I remembered voices.
Pressure.
Fear.
A mask over my face.
A doctor telling me to stay awake.
Another voice saying the baby was in distress.
Then I heard the sentence every mother fears.
"We need to deliver now."
I don't remember agreeing.
I don't remember the incision.
I remember silence.
A terrible, endless silence.
Then a tiny cry filled the operating room.
Weak.
Angry.
Alive.
Tears flooded my eyes.
"My baby?"
A nurse smiled above her mask.
"He's alive."
I started sobbing.
"Can I see him?"
"Just for a second."
They brought him close enough for me to touch his cheek.
He was impossibly small beneath the blankets.
His skin was red.
His eyes were squeezed shut.
I touched one finger to his face.
"Hi, sweetheart."
The nurse told me they needed to take him to neonatal observation because of the fall and premature distress.
I tried to hold on.
My body had nothing left.
When I woke again, the room was dark.
A heart monitor beeped quietly beside me.
Daniel sat near the window.
He hadn't changed clothes.
His hair was still wet from melted snow.
The sealed folder rested in his lap.
I looked toward the empty bassinet.
"My son."
"Alive."
Daniel immediately stood.
"Stable."
I closed my eyes.
Only then did I breathe.
"He needs a name," Daniel said softly.
I looked at him.
Michael and I had argued about names for months.
Michael wanted Carter Michael Carter.
I had hated it.
There was one name my mother used to whisper when she talked about courage.
"James."
Daniel froze.
"My mother's father was James."
His eyes filled.
I hadn't known that.
I looked away.
"James Bennett Carter."
Daniel said nothing for several seconds.
Then he walked to the bedside.
"There's something else you need to know."
I looked at the folder.
"About my mother?"
"About Michael."
My heart slowed.
Daniel opened the folder.
Inside were bank records.
Insurance documents.
Photographs.
And a printed page showing a life insurance policy.
My name was at the top.
The beneficiary was Michael.
The amount made my stomach turn.
Fifty million dollars.
But beneath Michael's name was another document.
A transfer agreement.
A future trust.
And a second beneficiary.
Ashley Monroe.
May you like
Daniel's voice became cold.
"Your husband wasn't planning to keep all the money."
