Chapter 3: Twenty-Five Weeks
The next morning, I woke to the sound of rain against the hospital window.
For several seconds, I didn't remember where I was.
Then I saw the IV.
The monitor.
Daniel asleep in the chair beside my bed.
And the memory came back.
The kick.
The grass.
The silence inside my belly.
I placed a trembling hand against my stomach.
A tiny movement answered.
I froze.
Then another.
A flutter.
Small.
Faint.
But real.
“Oh, Lily.””
Daniel woke instantly.
“What?””
“She moved.””
He stood so quickly the chair scraped the floor.
“What?””
“She moved.””
His face crumpled with relief.
He placed his hand over mine.
Then we both waited.
Another flutter.
Daniel laughed once, almost like a sob.
“That's my girl.””
The door opened.
Dr. Patel entered carrying a tablet.
“How are we doing?””
“She moved,” I said.
“I heard.””
Dr. Patel smiled faintly.
“That's encouraging.””
“But you said there was something wrong.””
She pulled a chair closer.
“There is.””
Daniel sat beside me.
“What did you find?””
Dr. Patel turned the tablet toward us.
“The trauma caused some bleeding behind the placenta. That's serious, but treatable.””
I nodded.
“And the other problem?””
She took a breath.
“The placental tissue is unusually damaged.””
“From the kick?””
“No.””
The word landed heavily.
“No?””
“We found areas of tissue that look older than they should. There are also signs of repeated injury.””
Daniel's fingers tightened around mine.
“Repeated?””
Dr. Patel nodded.
“This is why I asked whether anyone knew about a preexisting condition.””
I stared at her.
“No one.””
She looked directly at me.
“Are you sure?””
I thought about the previous month.
The dizziness.
The strange cramps.
The prenatal vitamins that sometimes made me sick.
My mother insisting on bringing me supplements.
My sister telling me I was “overreacting” every time I complained about fatigue.
Then I remembered something.
“Wait.””
Daniel looked at me.
“What?””
“My mother.””
“What about her?””
“She gave me herbal capsules.””
Dr. Patel's expression sharpened.
“What kind?””
“I don't know.””
“Do you still have them?””
“They're at home.””
Daniel stood.
“I'll get them.””
“No,” Dr. Patel said.
“Don't take anything else. We'll need the packaging.””
Daniel sat again.
Dr. Patel continued.
“I also want toxicology screening.””
My stomach dropped.
“You think someone poisoned me?””
“I said I want screening. That's different.””
But the look in her eyes told me she was thinking the same thing.
A knock sounded.
A police officer entered.
“Mrs. Bennett?””
I nodded.
“My name is Detective Harris. I need to ask you a few questions.””
Daniel stood.
“Is this about last night?””
“Yes.””
“Did you arrest Emily?””
“Not yet.””
My heart sank.
“Why not?””
“We're reviewing the video.””
“Noah gave you the recording.””
“He did.””
“So what are you reviewing?””
Detective Harris opened a folder.
“Your sister claims you approached her aggressively.””
I stared at him.
“She kicked me.””
“I know.””
“She kicked my pregnant stomach.””
“I know.””
“Then why are we discussing whether I approached her?””
“Because your father says there was an argument immediately before the incident.””
“There was.””
“What was the argument about?””
I looked at Daniel.
Then at Detective Harris.
“The family trust.””
His pen stopped.
“Which trust?””
“My grandfather's.””
“Why was it being discussed?””
I hesitated.
“Because I discovered a clause.””
“What clause?””
Before I could answer, Daniel's phone buzzed.
He checked the screen.
A message from Noah.
*I found the other document.*
Daniel opened it.
Then his face drained of color.
“What?””
He turned the phone toward me.
Noah had sent a photograph.
It showed a single page.
At the top was my grandfather's name.
Below it was a sentence.
*In the event of the death of my first great-grandchild prior to the twenty-fifth week of gestation, all trust assets shall revert to the family estate and be administered by the surviving trustees.*
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
Twenty-fifth week.
My daughter was twenty-four weeks and four days.
Three days remained.
My father had said they didn't have three days.
My mother had taken the trust documents.
Emily had attacked me.
And now I understood why.
Daniel looked at Detective Harris.
“This is bigger than an assault.””
Harris read the photograph.
“Where did you get this?””
“My wife's cousin.””
“Can I speak with him?””
“Yes.””
Harris nodded.
Then he looked at me.
“Mrs. Bennett, did your family know about this clause?””
“I don't know.””
“Think carefully.””
I closed my eyes.
My grandfather had died when I was sixteen.
Before he died, he had taken my hand and told me something strange.
He said, “When you have a child, Sarah, protect the baby from people who tell you they love you while counting what you'll leave behind.””
At the time, I thought it was just an old man's warning.
Now I remembered my mother's reaction when I announced my pregnancy.
She had hugged me.
She had cried.
And she had whispered something into my ear.
“Everything changes when that baby arrives.””
I had assumed she meant our family.
Maybe she meant the trust.
Detective Harris stood.
“I need the names of everyone who was at the house.””
I gave them.
He wrote each one down.
When I reached Emily's name, I stopped.
“She isn't just my sister.””
Harris waited.
“She has access to my house.””
Daniel looked at me.
“What are you thinking?””
“I think she knew about the clause.””
A silence settled over the room.
Then Detective Harris's phone rang.
He answered.
“Detective Harris.””
He listened.
His face became grim.
“Yes.””
Another pause.
“Are you certain?””
He looked directly at me.
“Do not let anyone into the patient's room.””
Daniel stood.
“What happened?””
Harris lowered the phone.
“Someone just tried to enter the maternity floor using your mother's identification.””
My blood turned cold.
“Why?””
“We don't know.””
Harris looked at the security camera mounted above the door.
“But we have footage.””
He showed us his phone.
A grainy image appeared.
A woman in a gray coat walked down the hospital corridor.
Her face was partially hidden.
She stopped outside my room.
Looked directly at the camera.
Then raised one hand.
May you like
In it was a small plastic bottle.
The same kind my mother had used for my supplements.
