The man with the silver watch spoke first. “Mrs. Reynolds, the consent forms have already been signed. Postpartum complications can be unpredictable.”
Linda sighed, her voice polished and rehearsed. “I understand. It’s tragic, really. But my son is already under a lot of stress. Losing his wife would be devastating… but inevitable.”
Losing his wife.
My stomach churned. It wasn’t about medical care. It was about erasing myself from existence.
Another nurse came in. I recognized her shoes — white sneakers with a blue stripe. She hesitated. “Doctor, her vital signs had been stable for an hour.”
The doctor paused. “Let’s check again.”
They approached the bed. I held my breath when the mattress sank slightly. My muscles screamed in pain from the effort of standing still.
Then Emily spoke.
“She’s not here.”
A sepulchral silence invaded the room.
“What do you mean, dear?” Linda asked, her voice suddenly harsh.
Emily swallowed hard. “My mother went to the bathroom.”
“That’s impossible”, said the doctor. “She just gave birth. She wouldn’t be allowed to—”
At that instant, Mark’s voice rang out from the hallway. “Allowed to do what?”
The door opened wider. I saw your shoes stop abruptly.
Linda laughed nervously. “Oh, Mark, dear. We were just checking—”
“Why is there a doctor here talking about consent forms?” Mark interrupted. “I just spoke to the nursing staff. They said my wife was not released for anything.”
The nurse in the blue striped shoes took a step back. “Sir, I… I was told—”
“By whom?” Mark asked.
Linda’s face twitched. “Mark, this is not the place—”
Emily knelt down and lifted her skirt from the bed. “Daddy”, she said, her voice trembling but loud, “Mommy is down here because Grandma is trying to hurt her.”
