Chapter 4 - The Flatline
The armored ambulance tore down the highway at a terrifying speed.
The siren wailed above me, but all I could focus on was the horrific, flatlining tone of the fetal monitor.
“Push fifty milligrams of epinephrine,” the lead paramedic shouted.
He was pressing an ultrasound wand frantically across my stomach, searching for any sign of life.
“Please don't let my baby die,” I sobbed into the plastic oxygen mask.
“We are doing everything we can, ma'am,” the medic replied, his hands covered in my blood.
The ambulance swerved violently, dodging holiday traffic as the federal escort cleared the road.
Suddenly, a faint, erratic thumping sound echoed through the small cabin.
“I have a pulse,” the medic announced, letting out a massive breath of relief.
“It is weak and bradycardic, but the baby is still fighting.”
I closed my eyes and let the darkness finally take over my exhausted mind.
When I woke up, the world was blindingly white and smelled like strong antiseptic.
I was lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to a dozen different monitors and IV lines.
The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor told me my baby was still alive inside me.
I turned my heavy head to the right and saw a man sitting in a leather chair beside my bed.
He was wearing a perfectly tailored gray suit, and his silver hair was combed neatly back.
“Hello, little bird,” my father said softly.
Tears instantly flooded my eyes.
“Dad, I am so sorry I didn't tell you,” I whispered, my voice cracking from the breathing tube they had just removed.
Chief Justice Arthur Sterling leaned forward and gently took my hand.
“You have nothing to apologize for, Anna.”
“You wanted to build a life outside of my shadow, and I respected your privacy.”
His eyes darkened, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
“But the man who did this to you will wish he had never been born.”
“Is David in federal custody?” I asked, hoping the nightmare was over.
My father sighed heavily and ran a hand over his tired face.
“David was arrested, but he is already out on bail.”
“How is that even possible after he assaulted me?”
“Because he called in a massive favor from the local county judge, who happens to be his golfing partner.”
My father pulled a thick legal document from his briefcase and placed it on my bed.
“David didn't just get released, Anna.”
“He filed an emergency ex parte order claiming you are a suicidal schizophrenic who intentionally threw yourself onto the floor.”
“The corrupt local judge granted him full medical conservatorship over you and the unborn child.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, panic rising in my throat.
“It means David has the legal right to pull the plug on your medical care,” my father said grimly.
Before I could process the horror of his words, the heavy hospital door swung wide open.
Standing in the hallway was David, flanked by the local county sheriff and two armed deputies.
May you like
“Hello, darling,” David smiled cruelly.
“I am here to take my mentally ill wife back home.”
