Chapter 4
998 Words
CHAPTER 4
Caleb picked up on the second ring.
“Mara?” His voice was immediately alert. “What’s wrong?”
“I... I'm at the hospital,” she said, her voice sounding distant even to her own ears. “I’m at Saint Agnes.”
There was a pause, followed by movement on his end, as if he was already doing things.
“I’m out of town,” he said. “About an hour away. I’m getting in the car right now. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
“Okay.”
“Did you call Frank?” The question landed heavier than it should have.
“I did, but... It's complicated.”
“You know what,” Caleb said. “Don’t move. I’m on my way.”
The call ended.
Mara lowered the phone slowly and stared at the screen for a moment before setting it beside her. Victor was still in the chair by the window, pretending not to listen.
The doctor returned not long after, holding a clipboard against her chest.
“Mrs. Calloway,” she said gently before correcting herself, “Mara.”
Victor shifted slightly, ready to stand.
“It’s okay,” Mara said. “You can say it here.”
The doctor hesitated. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “He’s the one who saved me.”
The doctor stepped closer. “You’re eight weeks pregnant.”
The words didn’t register at first.
Pregnant? Eight weeks.
Her breath caught, sharp and sudden, as if she had forgotten how to breathe.
The doctor continued, her voice careful. “Given the circumstances of your collapse and some of the markers in your tests, your pregnancy is putting your life at risk.”
Mara's hand instinctively moved to her stomach, pressed there protectively, and confused.
“We strongly recommend termination,” the doctor said. “For your safety.”
The room fell silent… Victor didn’t move or speak; he stayed exactly where he was.
“I’ll give you some time,” the doctor said softly. “Let me know when you’re ready to talk about next steps.”
She left, and the door clicked shut.
Mara remained still, her hand on her stomach. She didn’t know what she was holding onto. There was nothing to feel yet… nothing real, just the knowledge that had come too late to matter the way it should have.
Victor stood up slowly.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” he said, his voice low and careful. “I don’t know what you’re going through, but…I can help in whatever way you need.”
She nodded once.
Then she swallowed. “Can I be alone? Just for a few minutes.”
“Of course.”
He walked to the door without another word and pulled it closed behind him.
The second it shut, the sound tore out of her.
It wasn’t quietly crying, nor graceful. It was loud, broken, and ugly… the kind of cry that scraped its way out of her chest and didn’t care who heard it, then she curled forward, gripping her stomach as if she could hold everything together.
The hallway outside remained silent. Victor didn’t come back, and Mara cried until there was nothing left to hold in.
**********
Later, a male nurse entered the room. He wore a mask, and his gloves snapped into place as he moved quietly and efficiently, as if this were just another stop on a long list of rooms to attend to. He checked the IV without making eye contact with Mara for too long, adjusted the drip rate, and glanced at the monitor.
Mara focused on his hands.
Victor was seated near the window, his jacket back on, one leg crossed over the other, his attention fixed on his phone. He hadn’t left since the doctor walked out.
After finishing his tasks, the nurse gave a brief nod. “Press the call button if you feel dizzy or nauseous,” he said before leaving the room.
Not long after, there was a knock at the door. Victor looked up, frowned slightly, and then stood. He opened the door to take the bag from the delivery guy, thanked him, and closed the door again.
He set the bag on the small table and began pulling out the containers.
“You need something to keep your strength up,” he said, opening one. “Eat this.”
The smell hit her before she even looked at it. It was warm food, something she hadn’t realized she was hungry for.
“You didn’t have to,” she said.
“I know,” he replied.
She looked at him, and he added, “Please. I insist. I’ll leave once your cousin gets here.”
Mara hesitated but then nodded once. She took a few slow bites, not just because she wanted to, but because he was right. Everything felt too fragile to argue about.
Victor checked his watch, then shifted his gaze. It wasn’t abrupt, just caught.
There was a black bag on the floor. Medium-sized. It was pushed slightly into the corner near the wall, half-shadowed by the bed.
He was sure it hadn’t been there before; he stared at it longer than necessary.
“Do you know who that belongs to?” he asked.
Mara followed his line of sight, furrowing her brow. “No. I’m just seeing it now.”
That confirmed something for him. He stood up slowly, careful not to alarm her, and walked toward the bag. He nudged it lightly with his foot.
It was heavier than it looked, which struck him as odd.
Hospitals didn’t have bags like that just appearing out of nowhere, especially not unattended and not in patient rooms.
He bent down and reached for the zipper.
“Stay there,” he said, without looking at her. “Don’t move.”
As he opened the zipper, he looked inside.
And then he shouted—
“f**k!”
- Writer
