Chapter 3 - Code Pink
"That—that is an AI voice generator!" Daniel stammered, stepping toward the phone. "My wife is mentally ill! She fabricated that to frame me!"
He lunged for the phone on the floor.
But the security guard was faster. He stepped into the room and planted his heavy boot directly over the device, shielding it.
"Sir, step back," the guard ordered, his voice dropping an octave.
"You don't understand," Lorraine interjected, her aristocratic mask slipping as panic leaked into her tone. "We are the Hamiltons. We own the medical group that funds this wing. You will step aside and allow my son to take his child."
The guard didn't blink. He reached for his radio. "Dispatch, I need a Code Pink protocol in Room 412. Lock down the maternity ward. Nobody goes in or out. And get the police up here right now."
Code Pink. The hospital code for an attempted infant abduction.
The blaring sirens began immediately. Red lights flashed in the hallway. The electronic doors at the end of the ward slammed shut with a heavy magnetic lock.
Daniel looked frantically at the exit, then back at me. The composed, arrogant man I had married was gone. In his place was a trapped rat.
"Eleanor," he pleaded, taking a step toward me. "Tell them. Tell them it’s a misunderstanding. If the police get involved, it’s going to ruin everything."
I gripped the edge of Ethan's crib. I looked at this man—the man who had held my hand during our wedding, the man who had kissed my forehead three hours ago and told me I was beautiful.
"Don't you ever come near me or my children again," I whispered.
Two more security guards rushed into the room. They flanked Daniel and Lorraine, forcing them back into the hallway.
The unfamiliar nurse tried to slip out the door in the confusion, but the first guard caught her by the arm. "You're not going anywhere, either," he said, eyeing her nametag. "Nurse Higgins. We'll be needing to look at whatever was in that blue folder you were so eager to push through."
As they were escorted into the hall, my legs finally gave out.
I collapsed onto the cold floor, pulling Ethan’s transport crib down with me so I could shield him with my body.
Rebecca rushed to my side. She threw her little arms around my neck, burying her face in my shoulder. She was sobbing uncontrollably now that the danger was temporarily paused.
"I've got you," I cried, kissing the top of her head, rocking her back and forth. "Mommy’s got you, Becca. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you had to do that."
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A team of real nurses—the ones who had actually attended my delivery—rushed in. They helped me off the floor, lifted me back into the hospital bed, and placed Ethan safely in my arms.
Ten minutes later, the local police arrived. And the true nightmare of unraveling Daniel’s life began.
