THE TRUTH
LUKE
The waiting room felt like a cage, each second stretching out like an eternity. Josh and I sat in silence, both staring at the double doors that led to the operating rooms. Every time they swung open, I braced myself, heart thundering in my chest, only for some nurse or orderly to walk through without looking in our direction.
We were running out of hope with every passing moment.
When the police arrived, the tension in the room shifted. Two officers walked toward us, their presence heavy and
authoritative. Josh and I exchanged a quick look and then stood ⚫ as they approached.
“Josh? Luke?” the taller officer asked, his eyes darting between
- us.
“Yeah,” Josh answered, his voice sharp and exhausting.
“We have some questions about Sarah–the woman who shot Laura,” the officer began, pulling out a notepad. “How do your know her? How well?”
Josh clenched his jaw, his fists tightening. “She’s–she was staying with us,” he said.
The officer’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Did you know she’s been in and out of psychiatric facilities?”
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Josh’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. “What?”
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“She was a nurse,” the officer continued, his tone even. “But she became addicted to controlled substances–fentanyl, among others. While working, she accidentally overdosed a patient, which resulted in their death. She lost her license after that and was committed to treatment.”
My stomach twisted. “How the hell was she back at the hospital?”
The officer shook his head. “She wasn’t working. She was. visiting elderly patients to steal their medication. According to her file, she’s been using it again, and her mental health has significantly deteriorated. She was discharged prematurely and slipped through the cracks. After tonight, we’ve had her transferred back to a psychiatric facility under strict observation.”
Josh swore under his breath, pacing a short line in front of the chairs. “She was living with us.”
I ran a hand through my hair, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. “She could’ve-” I stopped myself. She did. She shot Laura. She nearly destroyed us.
The officer nodded solemnly. “We’ll contact you if we need further statements. Good luck.”
time revealing a gurney being wheeled through. My breath caught as I recognized Laura’s pale face, her body hooked up to machines.
As they walked away, the double doors opened again, this ti
Josh froze, his eyes locking on her. “Excuse me–that’s my wife,” he said, his voice breaking as he rushed toward her.
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He was at her side in seconds, his hand finding hers. The nurse pushing the gurney glanced at him, then nodded, letting him walk with her toward the ICU.
I stayed rooted in place, watching as Josh disappeared down the hall. Relief and fear warred within me. Laura was alive, but what about Jess?
The sound of approaching footsteps pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to see a man in a white coat walking toward me, his expression calm but serious.
“Luke Anderson?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, stepping forward. “Is Jess okay? What’s going on?”
He extended a hand. “I’m Dr. Dos Santos. I specialize in neonatal surgeries. I’d like to walk with you.”
My stomach dropped. Neonatal? Jess wasn’t–she was still supposed to be in surgery. Why was this guy talking to me?
“Wait–what do you mean neonatal?” I asked, my voice rising as I fell into step beside him. My legs felt heavy, like I was moving through quicksand. “Jess is in surgery. What’s going on?”
Dr. Dos Santos glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “Jess suffered a placental rupture,” he said, his tone measured. “That’s why she was bleeding so much. It’s a serious condition, and unfortunately, it caused your baby to go into distress.”
and The world tilted. My steps faltered, and I turned toward the doors, my eyes fixed on them as if I could will them to open let me through. “Distress?” I echoed, my voice hollow. “What do
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you mean, distress? Is she okay? Is the baby okay?”
Dr. Dos Santos placed a steadying hand on my arm, his grip firm. “Your baby girl’s heart rate dropped significantly due to the rupture. We’re doing everything we can, but time was of the essence. I performed an emergency C–section to deliver her, and she’s currently stable in the NICU. That is where we are going right now.”
The words hit me like a sledgehammer. Baby girl. Delivered. NICU.
I turned back toward the doors, my breathing shallow and uneven. “I need to see her, Jess. I need to see Jess. I can’t meet my baby girl without her,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Dr. Dos Santos nodded, his expression softening. “I understand, but Jess is still in surgery. We’re working to repair the damage and ensure she’s stable. As for your daughter…” He hesitated, and the pause sent a cold wave of fear crashing over me.
“What?” I demanded, my voice sharp. “What about my daughter?”
“She’s healthy albeit still very underweight, but that’s to be expected if delivered this early. She should only be in the neonatal intensive care for a week or so,” he said.
