Chapter 12 - THE FALSE LABOR
The military installation went into immediate security lockdown.
Every vehicle was searched.
Every entrance was guarded.
Dad wanted me moved to a hospital on base.
Dr. Torres warned that transporting me again could create unnecessary stress.
I was thirty-four weeks pregnant.
The baby was healthy, but my blood pressure had risen.
Linda remained missing.
Police searched airports, bus stations, and the homes of every relative.
A maintenance employee admitted that Sergeant Mercer had arranged the escape before his own arrest.
Mercer had paid the guard.
He also left a vehicle near the jail.
The car was found abandoned beside the river.
Linda’s clothes were inside.
Police considered the possibility that she had entered the water.
Dad did not.
“She wants us to believe she is dead.”
Detective Brooks agreed.
“She has survived by controlling what people believe.”
That night, contractions began.
They were ten minutes apart.
Then eight.
Then six.
Dr. Torres ordered me to Mercy General.
A police convoy escorted the ambulance.
Dad rode beside me.
“You’re early,” he told my stomach.
Despite the fear, I laughed.
“She gets that from you.”
At the hospital, nurses moved me into a secured maternity room.
The contractions became stronger.
Dr. Torres examined me.
My labor had started.
The baby could arrive within hours.
Dad stood outside while the nurses prepared me.
Captain Mason coordinated with hospital security.
Detective Brooks placed officers at both ends of the hallway.
Every employee entering the unit showed identification.
For three hours, nothing happened.
Then the contractions suddenly slowed.
Dr. Torres explained that labor could stop and restart.
She wanted to keep me overnight.
Near midnight, a nurse entered carrying medication.
She wore a mask and surgical cap.
Her identification badge was turned backward.
She approached the IV line.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Something to help you rest.”
“Dr. Torres said no sedatives.”
The nurse paused.
Then she reached for the IV anyway.
I grabbed her wrist.
She looked at me.
I recognized her eyes.
Linda.
She pulled a syringe from her pocket.
I screamed.
Linda covered my mouth with one hand.
“You should have signed the papers.”
I drove my elbow toward the emergency button.
She caught my arm.
The syringe fell onto the bed.
Dad burst through the door.
Linda spun toward him.
She grabbed a pair of medical scissors from the tray and held them near my stomach.
“Stay back.”
Dad stopped immediately.
Officers appeared behind him.
Linda pressed the scissors closer.
“You ruined everything.”
Dad’s voice remained calm.
“Put them down.”
“You took Robert.”
“Robert destroyed himself.”
“You turned Ryan against me.”
“Ryan chose what he became.”
Linda’s hand trembled.
“You think Emily is innocent?”
“She came into our family and looked down on us.”
I stared at her.
“I wanted a family.”
“You wanted control.”
“I wanted my husband to stop hurting me.”
“You kept refusing him.”
The words shocked even the officers.
Linda believed refusal justified violence.
She believed marriage erased my right to say no.
Dad looked directly into her eyes.
“My daughter does not belong to your son.”
“She never did.”
Linda raised the scissors.
Before she could move, I kicked the rolling tray beside the bed.
It slammed into her knees.
She lost balance.
Dad crossed the room in two steps.
He seized her wrist and forced the scissors away.
The officers pulled Linda to the floor.
She screamed until they carried her from the room.
Dad rushed back to me.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.”
The fetal monitor continued beeping steadily.
Our daughter was safe.
The syringe was sent to the laboratory.
It contained enough medication to stop my breathing.
Linda had not come to frighten me.
She had come to finish the plan.
As officers led her toward the elevator, she looked over her shoulder.
“This ends with Ryan.”
Dad stood between us.
“No.”
“This ends with Emily.”
The contractions returned before sunrise.
This time, they did not stop.
Dr. Torres examined me and smiled.
“Your daughter has decided she is ready.”
Then the monitor alarm sounded.
The baby’s heart rate fell sharply.
Doctors rushed into the room.
Dad was pushed into the hallway.
May you like
The doors closed.
And for the second time, he was forced to listen while both of our lives hung in the balance.
