Chapter 6 - The Transfer and the UltimatumThe stretcher rumbled violently across the hardwood floor as Dave and Sarah expertly transferred Emma’s limp, oxygen-supplemented body from the blood-soaked rug onto the gurney.
"Pulse oximeter is stabilizing at 92, blood pressure is holding at 90 over 50 with the rapid infusion," Sarah reported crisply, adjusting the IV drip pole locked to the side of the rolling stretcher. "We need to move now. Level One Trauma Center at St. Jude’s is expecting us in eight minutes."
"Move," Marcus commanded, keeping his gaze locked onto Emma’s pale, sweat-slicked face as the paramedics wheeled her down the hallway past a paralyzed, trembling Ryan.
Marcus scooped up his tactical bag in one hand and carefully settled baby Ethan into an approved infant car seat he had grabbed from the nursery closet. As he walked past Ryan, who was frozen against the hallway wall like a pathetic statue of regret, Marcus paused for just a fraction of a second.
"Don't follow us to the hospital, Ryan," Marcus whispered, his voice like sliding glaciers. "You’ve done enough damage for one lifetime. If you show your face at St. Jude's before Emma is stable, I won't just throw you out—I'll make sure the police investigate every single financial discrepancy and neglected medical waiver tied to your name."
Ryan opened his mouth to protest, to puff out his chest and demand his paternal authority, but the cold, dead look in Marcus’s eyes froze the words in his throat. He swallowed hard, his lower lip trembling slightly as he watched his brother carry his newborn son down the stairs and out into the flashing red lights of the night.
The front door slammed shut with a heavy, final thud.
May you like
Silence descended upon the opulent suburban house once more—a silence no longer filled with the hum of domestic bliss, but heavy with guilt, suspicion, and the lingering copper scent of spilled blood.
Ryan sank slowly to his knees on the very edge of the blood-stained cream rug, staring down at his trembling hands. For the first time in his life, there were no cameras rolling, no social media followers to impress, and no witty captions to hide behind. There was only the deafening echo of his own catastrophic selfishness.
