Chapter 2 - The Colonel’s Arrival
The heat of the summer morning was suffocating. I lay on the bed, my body aching from the previous night. Grant had shoved me against the nightstand when I tried to reach for my prenatal vitamins, which Evelyn had locked away.
"Good girls earn their pills, Claire," she had sneered, pocketing the key.
I had learned to cry without making a sound, letting the tears soak into the pillow. My blood pressure was spiking, and my head throbbed from the lack of my prescribed medication. I felt weak, trapped in a nightmare with no exit.
Then, I heard a heavy knock on the front door.
It wasn't a normal knock. It was a rhythmic, commanding strike that echoed through the entire house.
Downstairs, I heard Evelyn’s hurried footsteps, followed by the door opening.
"Can I help you?" Evelyn’s voice was laced with her usual polite hostility.
"I’m here to see my daughter," a deep, resonant voice replied.
My heart stopped. Dad.
"Oh, Colonel Mercer!" Evelyn’s voice instantly shifted into a high-pitched, welcoming tone. "What a surprise! Grant didn't mention you were visiting. Unfortunately, Claire is sleeping. She’s had a very difficult week. The pregnancy has been so hard on her mental state, we’ve had to keep her on strict bed rest..."
"I didn't ask for a medical report, Evelyn," my father’s voice cut through her words like a steel blade. "I asked to see my daughter. Move aside."
"Colonel, really, as her family, we must insist—"
"I am her father," Dad said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, quiet register. "And unless you want me to call the local sheriff to escort me upstairs, you will get out of my way."
Moments later, my bedroom door flew open.
My father stood in the doorway. He was a tall, imposing man with graying hair, sharp blue eyes, and a posture that commanded instant respect. He was wearing a civilian suit, but he carried the unmistakable presence of an active-duty Army colonel. Behind him, Grant and Evelyn hovered, their faces tight with panic.
"Claire," Dad said, his eyes softening the moment he saw me. He walked quickly to the side of the bed.
I tried to sit up, but the pain in my ribs made me gasp, and I instinctively pulled the heavy winter blanket tighter around my body, despite the summer heat.
"Dad," I whispered, tears blurring my vision. "You're here."
"Of course I'm here, sweetheart," he said, crouching beside the bed. His eyes scanned my face, noting the pale skin, the dark circles under my eyes, and the way I flinched when Grant stepped into the room.
"Colonel Mercer," Grant said, stepping forward, his voice dripping with false concern. "We are so glad you’re here, but Claire is highly emotional right now. She’s been having delusions. We were actually about to call her doctor."
My father didn't answer him. He kept his eyes on me.
"Claire," Dad said softly, his voice steady and grounding. "Why are you wearing a heavy blanket in July?"
"She’s just cold, Colonel," Evelyn said, reaching out to touch my father’s arm. "Pregnancy hormones—"
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"Do not touch me," my father said, not even looking at her.
With a swift, deliberate motion, my father reached down and pulled back the blanket covering my pregnant body.
