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Laughter echoed in the sterile hospital hallway as the mistress viciously shoved the pregnant wife to the floor, backed by the cheating husband’s approving nod. Their arrogant smiles froze instantly when heavy footsteps thundered down the hall and a terrifying voice barked, “Grab them.” As the director knelt beside the crying woman, he looked up at the trembling husband and whispered…

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brief second. She was tiny, slick, and flushed a vibrant, angry red. I pressed my lips to her damp forehead, breathing in the scent of iron and new life.

“Eleanor,” I whispered. Eleanor Finch. No. I mentally corrected the ledger. Eleanor Halloway.

As the pediatric team whisked her away to the NICU for monitoring, exhaustion finally dragged me under.

I continue reading …

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