Chapter 2 - The Hidden Truth
I stared at the crumpled envelope resting in my trembling palm.
The dried blood made the paper stiff and terrifying to touch.
I sat down in the plastic chair beside Sarah's bed and gently held her cold, motionless hand.
I silently begged her to wake up and explain what kind of nightmare she had fallen into.
With a deep breath, I carefully tore open the edge of the envelope.
Inside was a small, encrypted USB drive and a folded piece of medical stationary.
I unfolded the paper first, my heart hammering violently against my ribs.
It was a clinical ultrasound printout dated exactly two weeks ago.
I stared at the grainy black-and-white image of a tiny, developing life.
At the bottom of the page, the estimated gestational age was listed as five weeks.
I did the math in my head, and the realization hit me like a freight train.
The baby was mine.
Sarah had gotten pregnant during our unexpected night together in Miami.
She had been carrying our child while she was brutally attacked.
Tears blurred my vision as I gently placed my hand over her bandaged stomach.
The doctor had said she lost a lot of blood, and I suddenly panicked about the baby's survival.
Before I could run out to find the doctor, the heavy wooden door of the hospital room clicked shut.
I turned around to see a massive man in a tailored black suit locking the deadbolt.
He reached inside his expensive jacket and pulled out a handgun equipped with a long silencer.
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He pointed the weapon directly at Sarah's unconscious face.
And he told me to hand over the envelope if I wanted to live for another five seconds.
