Chapter 2
Madison’s breathing broke.
His mother folded her arms.
“Pregnant women have been giving birth for thousands of years. You’ll survive a dinner.”
Madison looked from one face to another.
Ethan.
His mother.
His sister.
His father standing silently in the hall, looking uncomfortable but saying nothing.
They were all dressed for a party.
And she was standing barefoot in broken glass, begging her husband to care that his child might be in danger.
She swallowed a sob.
“Your child needs you,” she said, her voice shaking. “Not your excuses.”
For one second, something flickered across Ethan’s face.
Guilt, maybe.
But then his mother touched his arm.
“Don’t let her ruin this,” she said.
And just like that, he chose.
Ethan turned his back.
Madison watched him walk toward the front door.
“Ethan,” she called.
He did not stop.
His mother followed him.
His sister grabbed the cake box from the counter and muttered, “Unbelievable.”
The front door opened.
Cold evening air swept through the house.
Then the door shut.
Madison stood in the kitchen listening to the car start outside.
Her husband drove away.
Her knees gave out.
She sank onto the chair, shaking so badly she could barely reach her phone.
The screen blurred through her tears.
Another contraction hit.
This time, she screamed.
Not because it hurt.
Because she knew.
Something was wrong.
She called 911 with one hand pressed against her stomach and the other wrapped around the phone.
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“My husband left,” she cried to the dispatcher. “I’m pregnant. I think my baby’s in trouble.”
👉 When the dispatcher asked one question, Madison broke — because the baby had almost stopped moving.
