Chapter 1 – Behind the Bedroom Door
The bedroom smelled of sweat, spoiled milk, and something far worse—neglect.
"Ethan..."
Hannah's voice was barely a whisper.
She was slumped against the side of the bed, her back resting awkwardly on the hardwood floor. One arm still reached toward Owen's bassinet as though she had collapsed while trying to comfort him.
Their six-day-old son screamed until his tiny face turned crimson.
Ethan dropped everything in his hands.
The pastries hit the floor.
The diapers scattered across the room.
He rushed toward Hannah, lifting her gently.
Her skin burned with fever.
Her lips were cracked from dehydration.
Then he noticed her wrists.
Deep purple bruises circled both of them.
Finger-shaped.
Not accidental.
"Hannah... who did this?"
She struggled to focus on him.
"They... wouldn't let me..."
Her voice disappeared.
Then she fainted.
Without another second, Ethan grabbed Owen, wrapped him in the new blanket, carried Hannah into his truck, and sped toward Mercy General Hospital while calling 911.
Behind him, Patricia stood on the porch shouting.
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"You're overreacting! She's just being dramatic!"
Ethan never looked back.
