Chapter 2 - The Doctor's Verdict
Outside the delivery suite, Daniel Mercer felt the blood drain entirely from his face, leaving his skin as cold as ice. The chaotic blur of blue scrubs swarmed around Claire's bed. He watched in absolute horror as a nurse climbed onto a stool and began violently pressing down on his wife's chest. The sickening crack of ribs breaking under the force of CPR echoed through the heavy door.
He took a frantic step forward, his hand reaching for the doorknob.
Vanessa’s manicured fingers tightened around his forearm like a vice. “Daniel, wait.”
“They’re doing CPR,” Daniel choked out, his eyes wide with panic. “That’s my wife. They’re trying to bring her back.”
Vanessa didn't let go. For months, she had been his intoxicating escape. While Claire’s pregnancy had been riddled with terrifying complications, bed rest, and endless medical bills, Vanessa had been hotel bars, expensive wine, and a version of Daniel completely unburdened by responsibility. He had run to her when the pressure of becoming a father felt too heavy. He had been in Vanessa’s hotel bed when Claire had called an hour ago, screaming that she was bleeding.
“My God,” Daniel whispered, his knees trembling.
Vanessa looked through the window at Claire’s lifeless body. The corner of her mouth twitched upward. And then, a quiet, breathless laugh escaped her lips.
Daniel snapped his head toward her, his stomach twisting violently. “Did you just laugh?”
Vanessa’s expression smoothed over in an instant, though her eyes remained entirely dead. “What? No. I’m just nervous. Sometimes people laugh when they’re in shock, Daniel.”
He stared at her, suddenly seeing the monster hiding beneath the designer perfume and the silk blouses. She stepped closer, invading his space, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Daniel... if she doesn’t make it, you need to understand something. This could be a clean slate. You and I could finally stop hiding.”
Daniel physically recoiled, nausea rising in his throat. “What the hell did you just say to me?”
Before Vanessa could answer, the delivery room doors burst open. Dr. Elena Brooks stepped out into the hallway. Her blue scrubs were drenched in Claire’s blood. She pulled down her surgical mask, her chest heaving, her eyes locking onto Daniel with a level of absolute, unadulterated disgust that made him take a step back.
“Is she... are the babies...” Daniel stammered, tears finally spilling over his cheeks.
Vanessa stepped forward, linking her arm through Daniel's, playing the role of the supportive partner. "Just tell us, Doctor. Is it over?"
Dr. Brooks looked at Vanessa’s arm linked with Daniel's, then looked him dead in the eye.
"We brought her back," Dr. Brooks said, her voice dripping with venom. "Your wife flatlined for two minutes and forty seconds. We performed an emergency C-section. You have a son and a daughter in the NICU. They are fighting for their lives, and Claire is in critical condition."
Daniel let out a loud, shattering sob of relief. He tried to step forward. "I need to see her. I need to see my kids."
Dr. Brooks held up a bloody, gloved hand, stopping him in his tracks.
"No, you don't," the doctor said coldly. "Because right before your wife lost consciousness, right before her heart stopped beating, she looked through that glass. She saw everything. And her last words to me were a legally binding medical directive."
Daniel froze. "What?"
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"She invoked an emergency domestic distress protocol," Dr. Brooks stated, her voice echoing in the quiet hallway. "She revoked all of your medical proxy rights, Daniel. She named her father—the District Attorney—as her sole representative. You have no legal right to information about her condition, or the twins. And if either of you takes one more step toward my patient's room, the police officers waiting at the elevator will arrest you for criminal trespassing."
Vanessa’s smirk completely vanished. Daniel’s world crashed down around him in an instant.
