Chapter 5 - The Locked Door
Mae returned shortly before sunset.
She entered without knocking.
Her movements were fast.
Too fast.
“Leah, put on your robe.”
Leah looked up.
“Why?”
“Now.”
Nathan had gone downstairs to meet Doreen.
Leah pushed herself upright.
Pain pulled through her abdomen.
Mae unlocked the bassinet wheels.
“What’s happening?”
“I heard Dr. Rusk talking to hospital administration.”
Mae pulled Leah carefully to her feet.
“They’re trying to accelerate the evaluation.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you need to be somewhere they can’t separate you from Owen while I figure out who still follows actual procedure around here.”
Leah’s face went cold.
“Separate us?”
Mae looked toward the hallway.
“Move.”
They stepped out.
Mae pushed the bassinet quickly along the corridor.
Leah struggled beside her.
Every step hurt.
They passed the nurses’ station.
Mae didn’t stop.
They reached an unmarked door near the end of the maternity wing.
Mae unlocked it.
“Inside.”
The cramped room smelled of linen and disinfectant.
Shelves covered three walls.
Mae rolled Owen beside Leah.
Then she stepped into the doorway.
“Do not come out until I return.”
Leah stared at her.
“What if Nathan comes?”
Mae’s expression sharpened.
“Especially if Nathan comes.”
“What?”
“Do not open this door even if your husband calls your name.”
Mae locked it from the outside.
Leah stood frozen.
Footsteps approached.
Two people.
Then three.
Doreen’s voice came first.
“Why isn’t she in her room?”
Dr. Rusk answered.
“The nurse moved her.”
“Which nurse?”
“Rowland.”
Doreen cursed softly.
Leah pressed one hand over her mouth.
Then Nathan spoke.
“Can we stop arguing in the hallway?”
Leah closed her eyes.
His voice.
The voice that had once calmed her.
The voice that now made her heart race.
Doreen answered.
“Once the psychiatric hold is approved, the baby goes home with family.”
A pause.
“Leah won’t have a say.”
Leah’s knees weakened.
Nathan lowered his voice.
“I know.”
Leah gripped the bassinet.
Doreen continued.
“You cannot lose your nerve now.”
“I’m not losing my nerve.”
“You nearly did in recovery.”
“She had just given birth.”
“And?”
“She looked at me like she trusted me.”
Doreen’s reply was immediate.
“That is useful.”
Silence.
Leah’s eyes filled.
Nathan spoke again.
“What happens after the seventy-two hours?”
“We establish that she needs continued treatment.”
“And Owen?”
“He comes home.”
“With me?”
“With us.”
Nathan said nothing.
Doreen’s voice became colder.
“You have debts you cannot pay.”
“You have a son whose trust becomes active the moment his birth certificate is filed.”
Leah stopped breathing.
Trust?
Nathan whispered.
“Keep your voice down.”
“Then remember why you agreed.”
Leah stared at Owen.
A memory surfaced.
Her father’s will.
A provision she had barely considered.
If Leah had a child, a portion of the Carver-Marston family investments held in her late father’s estate would transfer into a protected trust.
Leah would serve as trustee.
Unless she were legally incapacitated.
Then a designated guardian could petition for control.
Nathan knew.
He had helped organize her father’s papers after the funeral.
Outside, Doreen spoke one final sentence.
“By tomorrow, Leah will be the unstable mother.”
“And you will be the devoted husband who had no other choice.”
Leah silently reached beneath Owen’s blanket.
May you like
She found her phone.
Then she pressed record.
