Chapter 2 - The Unwelcome Visitors
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The door swung open, hitting the rubber wall stopper with a muffled thud.
My husband, Mark, stepped into the dimly lit room. He didn't look like a proud new father arriving to cradle his daughter. He looked impeccably groomed in a dark charcoal suit, his hair swept back, though a faint scent of cheap perfume and red wine preceded him.
He didn't come alone.
Behind him walked a woman wrapped tightly in a floor-length camel-hair overcoat. It was Vanessa Reed, the head of a boutique consulting firm we had hired six months ago. Her dark hair was tousled, and her red lipstick was noticeably smudged around the corners of her mouth.
"Mark?" I rasped, my throat dry from the oxygen mask I had worn earlier. "What's going on? Who brought her here?"
Mark didn't answer me. He turned his head back toward the hallway, holding the door open for his mother, Diane.
Diane entered like a queen surveying a conquered territory. She wore a tailored navy dress and carried a heavy black leather document binder tucked under her arm. Her eyes slid past the acrylic bassinet, ignoring her first grandchild entirely, before locking onto me with cold calculation.
"You said she’d be completely sedated, Mark," Vanessa whispered, her voice tight with irritation. She pulled the lapels of her coat together, but not fast enough to hide the bare skin beneath it.
"She's not going anywhere, Vanessa," Mark replied smoothly, his tone entirely void of the affection he had feigned for eleven years of marriage. "Look at her. She can't even sit up."
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"Mark... what is this?" I demanded, trying to leverage myself up on my elbows. Pain shot through my abdominal incision, locking my posture in place. "Why is she wearing an overcoat in a hospital?"
Diane stepped up to the edge of my bed, unzipping the leather binder. "Save your energy, Claire. You’re going to need your strength to sign these."
