Chapter 2 — No Heartbeat

Chapter 2 — No Heartbeat

The hospital lights blurred above Claire as doctors rushed her through the emergency department.

Voices surrounded her.

“Blood pressure is dropping.”

“Possible placental abruption.”

“Prepare the operating room.”

“Fetal heart rate?”

A nurse moved the monitor across Claire’s stomach.

Nothing.

The nurse adjusted the sensor.

Still nothing.

Claire grabbed her wrist.

“Find her.”

“We’re trying.”

“Find my baby.”

The nurse looked toward the doctor.

That look told Claire more than words could.

“No,” Claire said. “Don’t look at him. Look at me.”

The doctor leaned closer.

“Claire, we need to move quickly.”

“Is she alive?”

“We need to operate.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

The mask came down over her face.

Claire fought it.

“Tell me!”

The anesthesiologist held her shoulders gently.

“Breathe.”

“My daughter—”

“Claire, breathe.”

The room faded.

When she woke, everything was quiet.

Too quiet.

No crying baby.

No nurses rushing.

No tiny bassinet beside the bed.

Just a pale gray morning pressing against the hospital window.

Her abdomen felt empty.

A surgeon entered.

He removed his cap and sat beside her.

Claire already knew.

Still, she asked.

“Where is she?”

His expression softened.

“I’m very sorry.”

Claire stared at him.

“No.”

“The trauma caused a severe placental separation.”

“No.”

“We couldn’t restore her heartbeat.”

Claire turned toward the wall.

The surgeon continued speaking, but the words became distant.

“She was delivered at 3:17 a.m.”

Delivered.

Such a gentle word for something so violent.

“Did she suffer?” Claire whispered.

The doctor paused.

“We don’t believe so.”

Claire closed her eyes.

For months, she had imagined holding her daughter.

She had chosen the name Ava.

She had folded tiny clothes into a white dresser.

She had painted one wall of the nursery a pale shade of yellow because Ethan said pink was too obvious.

Now there would be no nursery.

No first cry.

No tiny fingers around hers.

Only silence.

The door opened several hours later.

Ethan walked in wearing yesterday’s clothes.

His shirt was wrinkled.

A dark stain marked his cuff.

Claire looked at it.

Her blood.

He stood near the foot of the bed.

“How are you feeling?”

She stared at him.

“How am I feeling?”

He exhaled.

“I didn’t know what else to say.”

“You could say her name.”

His jaw tightened.

“Claire…”

“Say it.”

He looked away.

“She didn’t even have a legal name yet.”

Claire’s eyes filled with tears.

“Her name was Ava.”

He swallowed.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He didn’t answer.

“For dragging me?”

His face hardened.

“You pushed my mother.”

“She slapped me.”

“You know how she is.”

Claire laughed once.

The sound broke in the middle.

“Yes. I know exactly how she is.”

Ethan stepped closer.

“The doctor said complications can happen.”

Claire’s grief changed shape.

It became sharp.

“You think this was a complication?”

“I think blaming each other won’t bring her back.”

“You killed her.”

His face went pale.

“Don’t say that.”

“You dragged a pregnant woman across the floor.”

“You were screaming.”

“I was begging you to stop.”

“You made everything worse.”

Claire stared at him.

There it was.

The truth of Ethan Caldwell.

He could destroy her body and still find a way to blame her for the mess.

The door opened again.

Margaret entered carrying white roses.

She wore a black wool coat and perfect makeup.

“Ethan,” she said softly. “Give us a moment.”

Claire sat straighter.

“No.”

Margaret placed the flowers beside the bed.

“Dear, you need rest.”

“Get out.”

Margaret sighed.

“You’re emotional.”

“My daughter is dead.”

Margaret adjusted one of the flowers.

“Stress is dangerous during pregnancy.”

Claire stared at her.

Then she understood.

Margaret wasn’t confused.

She was cruel on purpose.

“You killed her.”

Margaret looked at Ethan.

“Leave us.”

He hesitated.

“Mom—”

“Now.”

Ethan walked out.

Claire watched the door close.

Margaret stepped closer to the bed.

“You need to think carefully about what you tell the police.”

Claire’s hand tightened around the blanket.

“I already told them.”

Margaret’s smile disappeared.

“You were in shock.”

“I told them Ethan dragged me by the hair.”

“You fell.”

“He hit me.”

“You lost your balance.”

“He killed Ava.”

Margaret leaned close enough for Claire to smell her perfume.

“No.”

Her voice was almost gentle.

“You failed to protect her.”

The words struck harder than the table.

Claire’s body shook.

Margaret smiled again.

“You will sign a statement correcting your accusation. Then we will tell everyone you suffered a tragic accident.”

“And if I don’t?”

Margaret looked toward the door.

“Your father lives alone, doesn’t he?”

Claire stopped breathing.

“Your younger sister drives home late from the hospital.”

Claire’s eyes narrowed.

“Are you threatening them?”

“I am reminding you that families survive by protecting one another.”

“You mean your family.”

Margaret picked up her purse.

“Think about it.”

She moved toward the door.

Then Claire said,

“I know about the shell companies.”

Margaret froze.

Claire watched her shoulders stiffen.

“The fake consulting firms,” Claire continued. “The inflated invoices. The money moving through offshore accounts.”

Margaret turned slowly.

For the first time, fear crossed her face.

Only for a second.

Then it vanished.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I worked forensic accounting for six years.”

“You haven’t worked in years.”

“I never stopped looking.”

Margaret stared at her.

Claire saw the calculation begin behind her eyes.

“How much do you have?”

“Enough.”

“Where is it?”

Claire leaned back against the pillow.

“Somewhere you’ll never reach.”

Margaret left without another word.

Claire waited until the door closed.

Then she reached for the hospital phone.

Her attorney answered on the third ring.

“Daniel Shaw.”

“It’s Claire.”

“Claire? What happened?”

She looked at the white roses.

At the blood still trapped beneath her fingernails.

At the empty space beside her bed.

“Open the vault.”

Silence.

Daniel’s voice lowered.

“Are you sure?”

“They took Ava from me.”

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Claire’s tears finally fell.

“Now I’m taking everything from them.”