Chapter 5 - THE NIGHT HOPE COULDN’T BREATHE
Hope looked impossibly small beneath hospital blankets.
A clear oxygen tube sat beneath her nose.
Her chest moved too quickly.
Every breath made a faint sound I never wanted to hear again.
Claire was standing beside the crib when I entered the pediatric unit.
She looked as though she had aged a year since that morning.
“What did they say?”
“RSV.”
My stomach dropped.
“Is she—”
“They’re watching her oxygen.”
Claire’s voice cracked.
“She stopped feeding this afternoon. Then she started breathing like this.”
I moved toward Hope.
Claire didn’t stop me.
I touched one finger to our daughter’s hand.
Hope’s tiny fingers curled around it.
I nearly broke.
“Hey, Bug.”
Claire looked at me.
“You call her that?”
“Sometimes.”
“You never did at home.”
“I should have.”
It was not the moment to talk about us.
For once, I understood that without being told.
The doctor came in.
Hope was stable but needed observation.
Possibly several days.
Infants could deteriorate quickly with RSV.
I listened to every word.
Asked questions.
Wrote down feeding amounts.
Medication times.
Oxygen readings.
At one point Claire stared at me.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I knew exactly what she was thinking.
Where had this man been three months ago?
I wondered too.
That night Claire sat in the reclining chair beside Hope.
I sat on the floor.
“You can go home,” she said.
“No.”
“You don’t have to prove anything.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re sleeping on tile.”
“I’ve slept in worse places.”
She almost laughed.
“When?”
I thought about it.
“I haven’t.”
A tiny sound escaped her.
Almost a laugh.
It was the first thing between us that didn’t feel completely broken.
At 2:17 a.m., Hope’s oxygen dropped.
Machines began alarming.
Nurses rushed in.
Claire stood too quickly.
I caught her when her knees buckled.
“Daniel.”
“I’m here.”
She grabbed my shirt.
For perhaps thirty seconds, Claire forgot she had left me.
Forgot the divorce.
Forgot Samantha.
She was simply a terrified mother and I was Hope’s father.
The nurses repositioned Hope.
Suctioned her nose.
Adjusted oxygen.
The numbers slowly rose.
Claire started crying.
I held her.
Then felt her realize what she was doing.
She stepped back.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to me.”
She wiped her face.
“I hate this.”
“I know.”
“I’m so tired.”
“I know.”
Her eyes snapped toward me.
I corrected myself immediately.
“No. I don’t.”
Claire stared.
“I didn’t know how tired you were because I didn’t stay long enough to see it.”
She looked toward Hope.
“I thought I was failing.”
The words destroyed me.
“What?”
“After she was born.”
Claire’s voice became quieter.
“She cried constantly. Feeding hurt. I couldn’t sleep. My body hurt. Everyone kept saying motherhood was beautiful and I thought something was wrong with me because I was miserable half the time.”
I sat beside her.
“You weren’t failing.”
“I know that now.”
She looked at me.
“But when I asked you for twenty minutes and you walked away…”
I closed my eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“You made me think even you couldn’t stand being around me.”
“That wasn’t why.”
“I know.”
She gave me a sad smile.
“Samantha was why.”
There was no defense.
“I was selfish.”
“Yes.”
“I wish I could make that smaller.”
“You can’t.”
“I know.”
This time she didn’t tell me to stop saying it.
At seven in the morning, I went downstairs and bought Claire coffee.
Not the vanilla latte I used to bring her before pregnancy.
I remembered she had stopped drinking sweet coffee after Hope was born.
Black coffee.
One sugar.
When I returned, Claire stared at the cup.
“You remembered.”
“I started paying attention after it was too late.”
She accepted it.
“That’s depressing.”
“Extremely.”
By afternoon, Hope’s breathing had improved slightly.
Then my phone exploded with messages.
Ryan.
My attorney.
Our board chairman.
A local reporter.
I ignored all of them.
Claire noticed.
“You should check.”
“No.”
“What if it’s important?”
“Hope is important.”
She looked at me for several seconds.
“Check.”
I reluctantly opened the first message.
A news article.
CHARLOTTE DEVELOPER UNDER INVESTIGATION AFTER MILLIONS DISAPPEAR FROM COMPANY ACCOUNTS.
My photograph appeared beneath the headline.
Beside it was Samantha’s.
Anonymous sources alleged I had used fictitious consulting companies to hide marital assets before a divorce.
Claire read over my shoulder.
“This is ridiculous.”
I looked at her.
“That’s the first defense of me you’ve made in weeks.”
“I’m defending math, not you.”
Fair.
Ryan called again.
I answered.
“What?”
“Board suspended you indefinitely.”
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“My daughter is in the hospital.”
“Daniel, they think we stole the money.”
“Did you?”
“No!”
“Neither did I.”
“Then accountants will prove it.”
“You are weirdly calm.”
“I’ve spent four days learning what an actual emergency feels like.”
I hung up.
Claire watched me.
“Your company could collapse.”
“Yes.”
“You built it for twelve years.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re not leaving?”
I looked at Hope.
“No.”
Claire turned away.
An hour later, someone entered the hospital room without knocking.
Samantha.
Claire went completely still.
I stood immediately.
“What are you doing here?”
Samantha looked exhausted.
Her blonde hair was tied back.
No expensive coat.
No perfect makeup.
“You wouldn’t answer.”
“My infant daughter is sick.”
“I heard.”
“Then leave.”
She looked at Claire.
“I need to explain.”
Claire’s face hardened.
“You really don’t.”
Samantha stepped closer.
“The articles are wrong.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That narrows nothing.”
“The money wasn’t supposed to disappear permanently.”
“What does that mean?”
Samantha lowered her voice.
“I was moving it.”
“For whom?”
She looked toward the hallway.
Fear crossed her face.
Not performance.
Real fear.
“For my brother.”
I frowned.
“You told me you were an only child.”
“I lied.”
Claire actually laughed.
Samantha flinched.
“His name is Blake.”
I had never heard it.
“He ran Briar Capital.”
“Ran?”
“He used your development companies to move money for other investors.”
“What investors?”
“People you don’t want to know.”
My jaw tightened.
“Try me.”
Samantha shook her head.
“I came because Blake disappeared.”
“So did you.”
“I was hiding from him.”
“Why?”
Her hand instinctively moved toward her stomach.
“I took something.”
“What?”
“A drive.”
Claire stood.
“Take this conversation outside.”
Samantha looked toward Hope and nodded.
For once, she had enough shame to obey.
We moved into the hallway.
Samantha handed me a flash drive.
“This proves where the money went.”
I stared at it.
“Why give it to me?”
“Because Blake thinks I still have the money.”
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Who does?”
“I don’t know.”
I laughed.
“You’re asking me to believe that?”
“No.”
Her eyes filled.
“I’m asking you to believe I’m scared.”
Before I could answer, two hospital security officers appeared at the far end of the corridor.
Behind them stood a man in a dark jacket.
He looked at Samantha.
Her face drained.
“That’s him.”
“Blake?”
“No.”
She backed toward me.
“That’s the man Blake works for.”
The stranger saw us.
Then turned and walked away.
Security followed.
Samantha grabbed my arm.
“He knows Claire.”
I froze.
“What?”
“He knows who your wife is.”
Claire had stepped into the doorway behind us.
Samantha looked directly at her.
“And if Blake thinks you have the financial records, Daniel isn’t the person he’ll pressure.”
Her gaze dropped toward Hope’s room.
“He’ll come after the person Daniel has already proved he’ll panic over losing.”
My entire body went cold.
May you like
Samantha whispered:
“Your daughter.”
