Chapter 3 - Into the Delivery Room
My contractions started on their own a little before noon. There was no more delaying anything.
The new obstetrician, Dr. Renata Cross, examined me and said I was moving fast.
Derek got visibly excited. He paced. He called his parents. He took pictures of the monitors. At one point he posted a photo of our hands together with the caption *Almost time to meet our little miracle.*
The comments rolled in.
*Best dad in the world!*
*You two earned this.*
*Praying for an easy delivery!*
Not one of those people knew there were police officers standing behind a restricted door fifteen feet away.
At 12:48, Pierce showed up in the corridor. He wasn't supposed to be anywhere near me. He'd already been pulled from my case. But he was nervous enough to come check.
Through the glass, I watched him stop a nurse and start talking.
Then Detective Salas stepped out of the next room.
Pierce went still. Even through the window, I saw the color drain out of his face. Salas said something. Pierce turned his head and looked toward my room. Toward me.
Our eyes met.
He knew.
His shoulders dropped. Two officers moved in behind him.
Derek was facing the other way. He didn't see the handcuffs. He didn't see my doctor being walked to the private elevator.
I saw all of it.
And for the first time since 2:14 that morning, I felt something other than fear. Control.
Labor got hard fast. By 2:30 the room was full of nurses. Derek stood by my shoulder holding my hand.
"You're doing amazing," he kept saying.
I think I hated him more for sounding like he meant it.
Around 3:20, my daughter's heart rate dropped.
People moved fast. Machines started beeping. Dr. Cross was calling out orders.
For thirty terrible seconds, every criminal investigation in the world fell out of my head. I didn't care about money, or Derek, or Camille, or the company, or court. All I cared about was the tiny heartbeat inside me.
"Please," I gasped. "Please save her."
Dr. Cross looked me dead in the eye. "We've got her."
That sentence became the only thing I let myself hear.
Twenty-seven minutes later, the whole world changed.
A cry cut through the room. Sharp. Furious. Alive.
They laid my daughter on my chest. She had dark hair plastered to her head and an outraged little mouth, and I sobbed so hard I could barely see her.
"Hi," I whispered.
She opened her eyes.
"Hi, sweetheart."
Beside me, Derek started crying. Real tears. That was almost the strangest part of the whole day.
He reached toward her. "She's beautiful."
I pulled her in closer, and his hand stopped in the air.
"Nora?"
I looked at him. Eight years stood between us. Christmas mornings. Bad vacations. Fights about paint. Burned dinners. The first positive test.
And under all of it, the voice I'd recorded in the dark.
*After tomorrow, I'm starting a completely new life.*
I kissed my daughter's head.
"So am I," I said quietly.
The doors opened.
Derek turned. Salas came in with another officer. Ethan was right behind them.
Derek's face went through it in stages. Confusion. Then irritation. Then recognition. Then fear.
"Nora?"
Salas stepped forward. "Derek Shaw?"
"What is this?"
"Step away from the bed."
"What?"
"Away from your wife. Now."
Derek let out a nervous laugh. "You're seriously doing this during the birth of my daughter?"
Salas didn't move. "Hands where I can see them."
"Nora, what the hell is going on?"
I didn't say anything. He looked at Ethan, whose jaw was locked so tight it was shaking.
Then Derek saw the second officer holding an evidence bag. Inside it was the envelope from Pierce's office.
Everything went out of his face at once. "No."
Salas took his wrist. Derek jerked back. "No. No, wait—"
The cuff closed. *Click.*
That sound was softer than I expected. Somehow it still filled the entire room.
Derek stared at me. "You recorded us."
Not a question.
I held our daughter against my chest. "Yes."
May you like
His mouth opened, then closed.
Then the mask came off completely.
