Chapter 4 - The Midnight ConfessionBy 2:00 AM, Hannah had drifted into a deep, medicated sleep.
I stepped out into the quiet hospital corridor to stretch my legs and review the digital files Mason had forwarded to my phone. Page after page of financial deception scrolled across the screen: forged signatures on loan documents, unauthorized withdrawals from the estate accounts, and text messages between Paige and an unknown third party discussing how to "legally invalidate" Hannah’s marriage certificate.
Footsteps echoed down the linoleum hallway.
Dr. Marcus Vance, the attending physician who had admitted Hannah, walked toward me carrying a clipboard. He recognized my uniform and gave me a respectful nod.
"Captain Sterling. Still awake?"
"Hard to sleep when you're looking at evidence of attempted murder disguised as a domestic dispute, Doctor," I replied flatly.
Dr. Vance sighed, stopping beside me and leaning against the wall. "I've been practicing medicine for twenty years, Captain. You see a lot of broken bones, a lot of accidents. But what was done to your wife... that wasn't an accident. The core temperature drop she experienced could easily have been fatal within another thirty minutes."
"My mother and sister left her out there in the snow," I said, my voice dropping an octave. "They watched from the dining room window while eating dinner."
Dr. Vance shook his head slowly, a look of profound disgust crossing his features. "People are capable of monstrous cruelty when they believe power is slipping through their fingers. By the way... there was something else found during her initial bloodwork and trauma scan that you should know about."
My stomach tightened into a hard knot. "What is it?"
"She’s pregnant, Captain. Roughly eight weeks."
The corridor seemed to spin on its axis.
Pregnant.
A sudden, overwhelming wave of emotion crashed over me—terror, fierce protective instinct, and an unbearable surge of love. Hannah was carrying our child while those two harpies dragged her barefoot into the freezing snow, laughing over roast chicken while my unborn child’s mother fought for oxygen in a snowdrift.
"Is... is the baby safe?" I managed to choke out, my fingers gripping the edge of the clipboard until my knuckles turned white.
"She’s resilient, and so is the fetus," Dr. Vance reassured me quickly. "Her vitals are stabilizing, and the ultrasound showed a steady heartbeat. But she needs absolute peace, warmth, and zero stress moving forward. Another hour in that snow, however, and we would have lost both of them."
A cold, lethal calm settled over me.
The battle wasn't just about property rights anymore. It wasn't just about an inheritance or a stolen house.
They had tried to kill my wife. And now, they had tried to kill my child.
"Thank you, Doctor," I said, my voice chillingly calm. "Can I get her discharged into my private care by tomorrow afternoon?"
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"Provided her core temperature remains stable and blood tests hold steady, yes," Dr. Vance replied. "Just ensure she stays far away from whatever toxic environment put her here."
"Oh, Doctor," I whispered, staring down the long, empty hallway toward the exit. "The environment is about to be thoroughly sterilized."
