Chapter 3

Rachel's POV

"What happened?" He knelt beside her. "Are you okay?"

"She pushed me!" Samantha sobbed. "I found her papers and asked about them. She got so angry and pushed me!"

"That's not..." My voice was weak. "That's not what happened."

Austin's eyes found mine. They were cold.

"I can't believe you did this."

"I didn't push her." I tried to sit up but pain shot through me. "She's lying."

"Samantha is hurt!" His voice was harsh.

"I'm hurt too." My hand pressed my stomach. "The baby. Something's wrong."

He looked at Samantha's tears, then back at me.

"I should have known you'd use the baby to manipulate me."

"Please." I could barely speak. "I need a hospital. The baby needs help."

He bent down and lifted Samantha into his arms.

"Austin!" I reached out weakly. "Don't leave me!"

He pulled out his phone and tossed it on the floor next to me.

"Call 911 yourself."

He carried Samantha toward the door.

"Please don't leave me!"

The door closed.

I lay on the cold floor staring at the phone just out of reach.

Every movement hurt. I dragged myself forward until my fingers closed around it.

I dialed 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I fell. Down the stairs. I'm pregnant and I'm bleeding."

"What's your address?"

I told her. The words came out jumbled.

"Stay on the line. Help is coming."

The phone slipped from my hand.

Everything faded to black.

When I woke up, a doctor stood beside my bed writing on a chart.

She noticed my movement and came closer.

"Mrs. Collins? Can you hear me?"

I tried to nod.

"You were brought in yesterday after a fall. Your baby is in distress. The impact caused bleeding and early contractions. We've stopped the labor for now, but the next several days are critical."

"Is the baby..."

"The heartbeat is stable, but you need complete bed rest. If we can prevent premature labor for the next week, your baby's chances improve significantly."

I closed my eyes. A tear slid down my cheek.

"I need to ask you something. The paramedics said you were on the floor for about thirty minutes before they arrived. Was there no one else in the house?"

Austin's disgusted face flashed through my mind.

"There was someone," I whispered. "But they left."

The doctor was quiet. "I see. Is there anyone we should call?"

I shook my head.

"What about your husband?"

"He won't come."

She touched my hand briefly. "We'll keep you here as long as you need."

Days blurred together. Nurses came and went. I slept in brief bursts.

On the third day, the doctor came back.

"The bleeding has stopped. Your baby's heartbeat is strong. I think you're past the immediate danger."

Relief washed over me. "Thank you."

"But you can't go through this again. Your body might not handle it."

"I know."

"Is there somewhere safe you can go?"

I shook my head.

After she left, I picked up my phone. Seventeen missed calls. No calls from Austin.

I found the number for the private investigator I'd hired.

"It's Rachel Collins. I need you to do something."

"What do you need?"

"Security camera footage from my house. Three days ago. The staircase camera."

"When do you need it?"

"As soon as possible."

Over the next four days, I prepared.

The lawyer sent divorce papers. I reviewed financial accounts and made lists.

At night, I lay awake with one hand on my belly. The baby moved stronger each day.

On day seven, the doctor smiled. "You made it through the critical period. You're stable. The baby is stable."

"I can go home?"

"Tomorrow. But be careful. No stairs. No stress."

After she left, I opened the video file from the investigator.

The footage was clear. I was standing on the stairs, Samantha snatched the paper away. We got into an argument, she grabbed my arm, then gave me a hard push.

Austin running to her first.

I saved it to three different accounts. Emailed it to my lawyer.

I would file for divorce and release the footage, make sure Austin lost everything.

I touched my belly. "We're going to be okay."

Next day, I was packing when Austin walked in.

I froze.

"Rachel. I'm here to take you home."

"No thanks, I can make it home myself. Why are you here?" I replied coldly, feeling an uneasy premonition.

"I've arranged a transfer to a private facility. Better care."

"I don't want to transfer."

"It's already arranged."

"No. I'm not going with you."

He pulled out his phone. "You can come in now."

Two men in security uniforms appeared.

My heart raced. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you somewhere safe."

"I don't want to go!" I backed up. "You can't do this!"

He nodded at the guards. They grabbed my arms.

"Don't touch me! Let go!" I screamed. "Help!"

But the hallway was empty.

One guard pulled out a cloth. The smell was sweet, chemical.

"No—"

He pressed it over my mouth and nose, I tried to hold my breath but couldn't.

The room spun. Austin's face blurred.

I woke in darkness. My wrists were bound to a chair. My ankles too.

Across from me, Samantha lay on a cot. Her arm was bandaged, her face bruised.

Austin stood between us.

"Why am I here?" My voice was hoarse.

He didn't answer. Just stared with cold eyes.

"Austin, why am I tied up?"

"Rachel, why did you try to hurt Samantha?"

"What?"