Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Ward
When I finally woke up, I was staring at a blindingly white acoustic ceiling ceiling tile.
A clear plastic oxygen tube was taped securely beneath my nose.
A soothing, rhythmic thumping sound echoed from a monitor strapped tightly across my stomach.
A young nurse with kind eyes leaned over me and smiled.
She told me my baby still had a strong, healthy heartbeat.
I broke down, crying so violently that my smoke-ravaged chest felt like it was splitting open.
The nurse gently rubbed my arm and asked if I wanted her to call my husband.
I stared at the thick black smoke stains permanently wedged beneath my fingernails.
Brett's cruel parting words echoed in my mind like a toxic mantra.
I whispered that under no circumstances was she to call my husband.
It was the first actual parenting decision I ever made to protect my daughter.
I asked the nurse who had brought me to this hospital.
She looked confused and checked my medical chart.
She said I was found unconscious on the side of the highway by a passing ambulance.
There was no record of the masked man from the creek bed.
Later that evening, a police detective visited my room to take my official statement.
I told him everything about Brett leaving me, the argument, and the stolen car.
The detective looked down at his notebook with a deep, uncomfortable frown.
He told me that Brett had already filed a police report hours ago.
According to Brett's tearful statement, I had suffered a manic episode, stolen a neighbor's car, and abandoned my family in the fire.
Brett had painted himself as the desperate, heartbroken husband searching for his unstable pregnant wife.
The detective asked me if I had a history of clinical paranoia or delusions.
I realized with chilling clarity that Brett had set the narrative perfectly.
If I returned to him now, he would have me committed to a psychiatric ward and take my baby.
I told the detective I was too tired to speak and asked him to leave.
That night, I ripped the IV from my arm, stole a set of scrubs from a laundry cart, and walked out of the hospital's back exit.
I vanished into the cold night with nothing but the clothes on my back and the envelope the masked man had given me.
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I knew I could never go back to being Natalie Keene.
Not until I was ready to destroy him completely.
