Chapter 3 - The Nursery Floor)
The ambulance doors closed at 2:14.
Claire followed in her car.
Owen was taken with Amelia because there was no time to arrange anything else.
By 2:37, Amelia had been moved through two sets of emergency room doors.
Claire stood in a hallway answering questions she did not know how to answer.
Allergies?
None that she knew of.
Medications?
Pain medication from the hospital.
Complications during delivery?
Amelia had mentioned being anemic.
How much blood had she lost?
Claire stared at the nurse.
"I don't know. I wasn't there."
"Her husband?"
"Away."
"Can we contact him?"
Claire looked at her phone.
"Apparently not."
The nurse nodded but said nothing.
That silence felt like judgment.
Claire agreed with it.
A pediatric nurse examined Owen.
He was unharmed.
Hungry.
Frightened.
Otherwise healthy.
Claire held him while another nurse prepared formula.
Amelia had wanted to breastfeed exclusively.
Claire knew that.
She also knew Amelia would care more about her son being fed than about any plan made before an emergency.
Owen drank.
Claire watched his tiny mouth move around the bottle.
He looked impossibly small.
Six days old.
Claire began crying.
She turned away so the nurses would not notice.
One of them noticed anyway.
"He's okay."
Claire looked down.
"I know."
"Your sister is where she needs to be."
Claire nodded.
She wanted to believe that.
At 3:05, a doctor approached.
"Claire Morgan?"
Claire stood.
The doctor introduced herself as Dr. Evelyn Harper.
"Your sister has experienced significant postpartum bleeding."
Claire tightened her grip around Owen.
"Is she going to die?"
The doctor paused.
That pause terrified Claire more than any immediate reassurance would have.
"We're treating her aggressively."
"What does that mean?"
"Her blood pressure was dangerously low when she arrived. We need to control the bleeding and stabilize her."
"Is she conscious?"
"Not right now."
Claire looked down at Owen.
"Can I see her?"
"Not yet."
"How long?"
"I can't give you a reliable answer."
Claire nodded.
"Her husband is away."
The doctor glanced at the intake notes.
"We've tried the emergency contact."
"He isn't answering."
"We'll continue."
Claire gave a short, bitter laugh.
"Good luck."
At 3:12, Grant took his phone out of the locker.
He had seventeen notifications.
The first one he saw was Jason's group message about dinner reservations.
The second was the photograph Marcus had taken of the pool.
Then he saw Claire's message.
AMELIA IS IN AN AMBULANCE. ANSWER YOUR PHONE.
Grant stopped breathing.
He called immediately.
Claire answered on the first ring.
"What happened?"
Her voice was ice.
"Where are you?"
"The hospital."
"What happened?"
"Where are you, Grant?"
"The resort."
"I know that."
"I was in the pool."
Claire closed her eyes.
Owen slept against her chest.
"Amelia had an emergency."
"What kind?"
"She was bleeding."
Grant went pale.
"How bad?"
"Bad enough that she couldn't reach the phone."
Grant sat down hard on the bench.
"What do you mean?"
"She called 911 through the baby monitor."
Silence.
Grant stared at the floor.
"Is she okay?"
"They're working on her."
"What does that mean?"
"It means nobody knows yet."
Grant stood.
"I'm coming."
Claire laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
"Now?"
"Claire."
"Now you're coming?"
"I didn't know this was going to happen."
"She told you she felt wrong."
Grant froze.
"She told me she was dizzy."
"She asked you to come home."
Grant looked toward the locker room doorway.
Jason appeared, saw his expression, and stopped.
"She was anxious."
Claire's voice changed.
"Do not say that to me."
Grant lowered his voice.
"I'm leaving right now."
"Good."
"Can I talk to the doctor?"
"They're busy keeping your wife alive."
Grant flinched.
Claire ended the call.
Jason approached.
"What happened?"
Grant grabbed his bag.
"Amelia's in the hospital."
"Oh."
Jason's face changed.
"Is she okay?"
"I don't know."
"You need a ride?"
Grant shook his head.
"My car."
Jason followed him.
"We'll come."
"No."
"Grant."
"No. Just stay."
Jason stared at him.
"Was she sick before you left?"
Grant did not answer.
Jason's expression shifted.
"Grant."
"I didn't know it was serious."
"Did she ask you to stay?"
Grant pulled the locker room door open.
"I have to go."
Jason watched him leave.
For the first time that weekend, the birthday trip stopped feeling harmless.
Grant drove too fast.
Two hours became one hour and forty minutes.
He called the hospital twice.
They would not give him information over the phone.
He called Claire six times.
She answered once.
"No change."
"Is Owen okay?"
"Yes."
"Where is he?"
"With me."
Grant swallowed.
"I should be there."
Claire said nothing.
"I'm coming."
"I know."
Then she ended the call.
At 4:46, Dr. Harper returned to the family waiting room.
Claire stood immediately.
The doctor looked tired.
"She's stable."
Claire's knees almost gave out.
She sat again.
"Stable?"
"We controlled the bleeding."
Claire covered her mouth.
"She's alive."
"Yes."
Claire bowed her head.
For several seconds she could not speak.
Owen stirred in her arms.
"When can I see her?"
"Soon."
"Will she be okay?"
"We're optimistic, but she lost a significant amount of blood. She'll need monitoring and recovery."
Claire nodded.
"Thank you."
The doctor looked at Owen.
"Your sister was extremely fortunate that the emergency call was placed when it was."
Claire stared at her.
"How fortunate?"
The doctor hesitated.
"Minutes mattered."
Claire looked down at the baby.
Minutes.
Grant had spent hours refusing to answer.
At 5:31, he reached the hospital.
He ran through the emergency entrance.
Claire was sitting in the waiting room with Owen asleep against her.
Grant stopped.
The sight of his son seemed to knock the air from him.
He walked forward.
"Give him to me."
Claire stood.
"No."
Grant stared at her.
"What?"
"Lower your voice."
"He's my son."
"And he's sleeping."
Grant looked down.
Owen's tiny face was visible above the blanket.
Grant reached toward him.
Claire stepped back.
"Where's Amelia?"
"In recovery."
"I want to see her."
"She's unconscious."
"Then I want to sit with her."
"The doctor decides that."
Grant looked furious.
"Claire, stop acting like you own this situation."
Something in Claire's face went still.
"I own nothing."
She looked down at Owen.
"But I was here."
Grant opened his mouth.
Claire continued.
"I was here when your son arrived in an ambulance because his mother collapsed trying to reach him."
Grant's jaw tightened.
"I said I didn't know."
"You knew she asked you to come home."
"I thought she was overwhelmed."
"She was six days postpartum."
"I know."
"Do you?"
Grant looked away.
Claire's phone vibrated.
A nurse was ready to let one family member into Amelia's room.
Grant stepped forward.
"I'm her husband."
Claire looked at the nurse.
The nurse checked the chart.
"Mr. Caldwell?"
"Yes."
"Your wife listed Claire Morgan as her secondary medical contact."
"I'm primary."
The nurse hesitated.
"She regained consciousness briefly."
Grant's face changed.
"She did?"
"Yes."
"And?"
The nurse looked directly at him.
"She asked for her sister."
Claire closed her eyes.
Grant stared.
"What else did she say?"
The nurse looked at Claire, then at Grant.
"She asked us not to bring you into the room."
The waiting room became silent.
Grant's face turned white.
Claire shifted Owen in her arms.
The nurse opened the secured door.
"Ms. Morgan?"
Claire followed.
Grant remained where he was.
Alone.
Twenty minutes later, his phone vibrated.
A message from Jason.
You said she was fine when you left.
Grant stared at the screen.
May you like
Then another message appeared.
Was she?
