Chapter 6 - Confrontation at MidnightThe hospital corridors were dead quiet at 1:00 AM. The harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a clinical, sterile glow over the polished linoleum floors.
I didn't stop at the front desk. I didn't wait for a nurse to notice me. I marched straight down the hallway toward the NICU, my boots clicking rhythmically against the floor.
When I reached the double doors of the recovery ward, I didn't knock. I shoved them open hard enough that they banged against the drywall.
Inside, the room was dark. Emily was asleep, her breathing deep and even.
Standing beside her bed, whispering quietly to a nurse, was Ryan.
When the doors slammed open, both of them jumped. Ryan turned around, his face pale and exhausted.
"Beth?" he breathed, taking a step toward me. "What are you doing back here? How did you get in?"
I didn't answer him. I walked right past him, ignoring his outstretched hand, and stopped beside Emily’s bed.
"Wake up," I said coldly.
Emily’s eyelids fluttered open. She blinked sluggishly against the dim light, looking up at me with immediate terror. "Beth... please..."
"Shut up," I said, my voice dangerously low. I reached into my coat pocket, pulled out the manila folder, and hurled it across the mattress. The papers scattered messily over her blanket. "Explain this."
Ryan lunged forward, grabbing the edge of the folder. "Beth, you shouldn't have been looking through our things—"
"Shut up, Ryan!" I screamed, the sound echoing down the quiet hallway. "You forged my signature! You stole forty-five thousand dollars from our savings account to pay off Mark Sterling! You set up an adoption agreement behind my back!"
Emily stared at the papers, her face draining of what little color she had left. She looked at Ryan with panic in her eyes. "You... you showed her?"
"I didn't show her anything!" Ryan yelled back, his composure finally shattering. "She found it at home!"
I looked between the two of them, the pieces of the puzzle finally clicking together with terrifying clarity.
"It’s not Mark’s, is it?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
The room went dead silent.
Emily started to cry, pulling the blanket up to her chin like a shield.
I turned my gaze slowly to my husband. Ryan looked like a man standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the ground to give way.
"Answer me, Ryan," I demanded, tears of pure rage burning in my eyes. "Is that baby yours?"
May you like
Ryan closed his eyes, a single tear cutting a clean path through the stubble on his cheek.
"Yes," he whispered.
