Chapter 6 - Steady Heartbeat
The paramedics arrived next.
Michael rode with me to the hospital.
Allison followed.
My mother was not allowed in the ambulance.
Neither was Victoria.
At the emergency maternity unit, nurses examined me carefully. They checked the baby. Monitored the heartbeat. Treated the contact area without making me look at it. Asked questions in calm voices.
Michael stood beside me the whole time, face controlled, hand open near mine.
“Baby’s heartbeat is steady,” the nurse said.
I cried then.
Hard.
Ugly.
Uncontrolled.
Not because everything was okay.
Because the smallest, most important thing still was.
Michael pressed his forehead to my hand.
“Still with us,” he whispered.
Allison stood near the curtain, eyes wet for exactly one second before becoming attorney again.
“Elizabeth,” she said softly, “police need your statement when you’re ready.”
I looked at her.
“Did they get the phone?”
“Victoria surrendered it after her attorney was contacted. There are recordings.”
“My mother?”
“Being interviewed.”
“Did she say it was an accident?”
Allison’s mouth tightened.
“She said you moved into the bowl.”
Despite everything, I laughed once.
It hurt.
Michael looked furious enough to shake.
I squeezed his hand.
“Don’t.”
He looked at me.
“She hurt you.”
“I know.”
“She endangered our son.”
“I know.”
“She tried to steal from you.”
“I know.”
His eyes filled.
“Then why are you comforting me?”
I stopped.
Because he was right.
Because that was my training.
Someone else’s emotion entered the room, and I automatically tried to manage it.
I let go of his hand.
Not cruelly.
Clearly.
“I need you steady,” I said.
Michael swallowed.
Then nodded.
“You have me.”
And he meant it.
That night, I gave my statement from a hospital bed.
The officer asked about the forged documents.
The soup.
The recordings.
The family history.
The financial pressure.
The fertility treatments.
The inheritance.
The threats.
I answered slowly.
Sometimes I had to stop because my son moved and I needed to breathe through panic.
The officer waited.
Allison sat beside me.
Michael stood by the window.
When I finished, the officer said, “Mrs. Whitmore, I need to ask this directly. Do you believe your mother intended to frighten or harm you because of the estate matter?”
I stared at the blanket.
My mother’s voice replayed.
Fear is finally useful.
Then the soup.
You don’t deserve everything.
Victoria’s faint smile.
Lucky one.
I looked up.
“Yes.”
May you like
The word shook.
Still counted.
