“She’s terrified, Sarah. Her heart rate is erratic. She keeps mouthing the word ‘Mom.’ And the baby… the fetal heartbeat has strengthened. It’s a miracle, but it’s fragile. You need to get back to this hospital immediately. We need you here to keep her calm. If her blood pressure spikes from panic, she could hemorrhage again. You need to be here now.”
I looked up at the massive house. Inside, the dark silhouettes of Liam and his mother were still moving comfortably in the warm light. They were alive. They were entirely free.
But Chloe was awake. And the baby was fighting.
The realization hit me with the force of a freight train. If I struck another match and threw it now, the police and fire departments would swarm the estate. I would be arrested for premeditated arson and double homicide. I would go to a maximum-security prison for the rest of my natural life.
And Chloe? Chloe would wake up in a terrifying, sterile hospital bed, broken, traumatized, and fighting for her pregnancy, with absolutely no mother there to hold her hand. She would be completely alone against the Sterling family’s lawyers.
I looked at the box of matches in my hand. It was the heavy, intoxicating weight of vengeance.
Then I thought of Chloe’s cold hand in the ICU. The unbreakable weight of maternal love.
“I’m coming,” I sobbed into the phone, the tears blinding me. “Tell her I’m coming right now. Tell her Mom is on the way.”
