Chapter 4 - The Hospital Room Betrayal
The sterile smell of antiseptic and the constant hum of medical monitors greeted Julian as he sat slumped in a plastic chair beside Mariana’s hospital bed in the emergency ward of the general hospital.
For three hours, a team of vascular surgeons and obstetricians had worked tirelessly on Mariana. They had successfully drained the infection from her ankle, administered heavy-dose intravenous antibiotics to fight the sepsis, and performed an emergency ultrasound to check on the baby.
Miraculously, the baby’s heartbeat was strong and steady. The little boy—whom they had already decided to name Mateo—was fighting just as hard as his mother.
However, the news regarding Mariana’s legs was sobering. The prolonged immobility combined with the toxic concoctions Doña Carmen had forced her to drink had caused severe circulatory damage. She would need months of physical therapy, blood thinners, and strict bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy, but the doctors assured Julian that, with proper care, she would walk again.
Mariana was sleeping now, her breathing deep and even, the fever finally beginning to break.
Julian stood up quietly, kissing her pale forehead before stepping out into the hallway to call his brother-in-law in Puebla to let him know what was happening. He needed to find a way to pay the mounting hospital bills, and he knew he would have to sell his car, his tools—anything he owned.
As he walked down the brightly lit hospital corridor, phone pressed to his ear, a familiar, chilling voice rang out from the nurses' station near the main elevators.
"Yes, I need to speak to hospital social services and the child protection division immediately," Doña Carmen’s voice rang out, sharp and demanding.
Julian froze in his tracks, the phone nearly slipping from his ear. He rounded the corner and saw his mother standing at the reception desk, talking to a social worker with a clipboard. Doña Carmen was dressed in her Sunday best, dabbing fake tears from her eyes with a lace handkerchief.
"My son has been completely manipulated by an unstable, abusive woman," Doña Carmen was telling the social worker, her voice dripping with fabricated grief. "She neglected her own health, locked herself in the room to keep me out, and now she’s suffering from a self-inflicted infection while seven months pregnant. My son is in total denial because he’s under her spell. That unborn child is in immediate danger of being raised in an abusive, psychotic household!"
The social worker nodded sympathetically, writing notes on her clipboard. "Thank you for coming forward, señora. Cases of severe maternal neglect and self-harm during pregnancy are taken very seriously by our department. We will initiate an emergency welfare evaluation and temporary custody hold on the infant the moment the child is born."
Julian’s blood turned to ice. All the sorrow he had felt for his mother turned instantly into a blinding, white-hot fury.
He didn't hesitate. He marched straight down the hallway, his boots slamming against the tile floor.
"Mom!" Julian roared, his voice echoing off the hospital walls and causing heads to turn from all directions.
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Doña Carmen spun around, her eyes widening slightly in surprise, but she quickly recovered, lifting her chin with arrogant defiance.
"Julian," she said loudly, turning back to the social worker. "This is him. This is my son. He’s delusional. He’s threatening me because I tried to save my grandchild!"
