Michael followed Sarah to the maternity ward, where the on-call doctor, Dr. Patel, spotted him immediately. “Mike, thank God you’re here! I’ve got a C-section in progress, and they just brought in another patient—high-risk, started labor yesterday. I don’t know why they waited so long to transfer her.” Michael nodded, his mind already shifting into work mode. “Got it. She’s the one from county?” Patel confirmed. “Yeah, two guards with her. They’re at the entrance.”
Michael headed to the admitting area, where the patient lay on a gurney, her face partially covered by her arm. Two guards stood by the door, looking bored and impatient. The woman’s body was tense, her breathing uneven, and Michael noticed she was biting her sleeve, likely to muffle her pain. Something about her posture, the way her dark hair fell across her face, sent a chill through him. He couldn’t place it, but his instincts screamed that something was off.
“Everyone out,” he ordered, his voice sharp. One of the guards started to argue, but Michael cut him off. “Wait in the hall. This is a sterile area, unless you want to scrub in and join me in surgery.” Grumbling, the guards left. Sarah and Jessica were prepping the operating room, leaving Michael alone with the patient. He leaned over to check her vitals, his hands moving on autopilot.
“Michael, is that you?” The voice was faint, trembling, but unmistakable. His heart stopped. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to her face. “Emily?” Her name came out as a whisper, his voice breaking. Her hazel eyes, wide with fear and pain, locked onto his. It was her—thinner, pale, but undeniably her.
She spoke quickly, her words rushed between labored breaths. “Mike, please, act like you don’t know me. It’s for your safety—and our baby’s.” His mind reeled. Baby? “I can’t explain everything now, but I had no choice. My ex-husband… I thought I killed him. He abused me for years. I fought back, thought he was dead, but he survived. His father’s powerful, got me locked up. They found me, said they’d hurt you if I didn’t turn myself in. I was already pregnant.”
Michael’s hands shook as he processed her words. Pregnant. Their child. Emily, a fugitive. It was too much, but her next words snapped him back. “The guards are bought. His son’s waiting for me to deliver so he can keep torturing me. Please, save our baby.”
Sarah entered, and Michael clamped down on his emotions. “We’ll talk later,” he muttered, focusing on the task at hand. The surgery was grueling—Emily’s condition was critical, and the baby was in distress. Every second felt like an eternity, his nerves frayed as he fought to save them both. He couldn’t lose her again, not now, not with their child’s life on the line.
Four hours later, Michael emerged from the operating room, exhausted but hopeful. Emily and the baby—a boy—were stable, though both were in critical condition. The guards approached him immediately. “When can we take her?” one demanded. Michael’s fists clenched, but he kept his voice steady. “Two weeks, minimum, and that’s if she survives. She’s in no condition to be moved. Same with the kid. I’m in charge here, so back off.”
The guards exchanged glances but left, muttering about reporting to their boss. Michael knew they’d be back, and he needed a plan. He couldn’t let Emily go back to that prison, not after what she’d told him. Her real name, he learned, was Lauren Evans, and her story was all over the internet. She’d married the son of a wealthy real estate mogul, Richard Harper, a man with a reputation for cruelty. Articles claimed Lauren’s aunt had practically sold her into the marriage for a payout. Years of abuse followed, until Lauren snapped, attacking Richard in self-defense. She thought she’d killed him and fled, only to learn he’d survived. His father, a man with deep ties to Chicago’s elite, had her arrested.
Michael’s mind raced. He couldn’t fight Harper’s influence alone, but he wasn’t without resources. A year ago, he’d saved the life of a police commissioner’s wife during a complicated delivery in Chicago. The commissioner, James Donovan, had given Michael his card, saying, “If you ever need a favor, call me. But it’s a one-time deal, and it better be serious.” Michael had laughed it off at the time, but now, he dug through his desk for that card.
He dialed the number, his heart pounding. Donovan answered on the third ring. “Dr. Carter? Been a while. What’s the situation?” Michael explained everything—Emily’s abuse, her false imprisonment, the corrupt guards, and the threat to their newborn son. Donovan listened silently, then said, “This is big, but I owe you. I’ll make some calls. Stay put and keep her safe.”