Chapter 2 - The Baby Who Was Still Moving
Our daughter kicked while I stared at the words.
Fetal demise.
There was a time beneath them.
Tomorrow.
8:40 a.m.
“She’s moving,” I said.
My voice sounded small.
“I know,” Dr. Sloan said.
Adrian stood so abruptly that his chair hit the wall.
“Who entered that?”
“Sit down,” I told him.
“Claire—”
“You promised.”
He looked at me.
Then he sat.
Dr. Sloan locked the exam-room door.
“The heartbeat is reassuring. What I’m seeing right now doesn’t support the emergency diagnosis in your chart.”
She kept her voice calm.
Her hand wasn’t quite steady.
“There’s a measurement I want a specialist to check. That’s why I paused. But this delivery order was entered last night under another physician’s credentials.”
“Whose?” Adrian asked.
“Dr. Nathan Keller.”
“I’ve never met him.”
Dr. Sloan opened the attachment.
A consent form appeared.
My signature sat at the bottom.
It looked almost right.
Almost.
“I didn’t sign that.”
“What about this?” she asked.
It was a transfer authorization for the baby after delivery.
Receiving facility: Lakeshore Neonatal Partners.
I shook my head.
Adrian took out his phone.
“Marco. Nobody enters this room without Claire’s permission.”
Outside, his security chief answered immediately.
Dr. Sloan looked at him.
“No weapons. No intimidation. I’m calling hospital security and my medical director.”
“Do it.”
She printed the documents.
A soft knock came at the door.
“Claire? Transportation is here.”
Dr. Sloan’s face went still.
“My patient doesn’t need transportation.”
The woman outside paused.
“It’s already arranged.”
Adrian looked at me.
For the first time since he’d entered the clinic, I saw fear without anger covering it.
Dr. Sloan called through the door.
“Who arranged it?”
“Family office.”
My mouth went dry.
Adrian had a family office.
It handled properties, staff, travel, legal bills.
And his mother ran it.
He stood again, slowly this time.
“Name?”
The voice outside sharpened.
“Mrs. Moretti requested discretion.”
There were two Mrs. Morettis.
Only one of us had ordered a car.
Dr. Sloan called security.
Footsteps hurried away from the door.
Adrian reached for my hand.
I pulled it back.
“Tell me this isn’t your mother.”
He didn’t.
Instead, he called someone.
“Lucia. Where are you?”
I could hear her warm, polished voice.
“Adrian, darling. Is something wrong?”
“Where are you?”
A small silence.
Then she said, “Has Claire had the baby?”
I looked at the clock.
May you like
It was 11:17 a.m.
Nobody had told her he’d found me.
