“She is the majority shareholder now,” Margaret said. “And you are officially an employee subject to her board’s review.”

Grant lunged toward the bed, but Margaret stood her ground.

“We are leaving,” Grant said, turning to Vanessa. “We will dispute this in court before the opening bell tomorrow.”

He grabbed his coat and stormed out of the room, Vanessa hurrying close behind him.

Margaret watched them go, then turned to me, her face pale.

Suddenly, a red light began to flash on the console above my head.

A sharp, high-pitched siren echoed from the hallway outside.

It was the alarm from the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit.

Margaret’s phone buzzed violently in her pocket, and she pulled it out, her eyes widening as she read the text.

“Chloe,” Margaret said, her voice dropping to a tense whisper. “We have a problem.”

The alarm kept screaming, a high-pitched, rhythmic wail that pulsed through the drywall.

“What is happening?” I asked, my voice barely a rasp.

The incision across my abdomen throbbed, a sharp heat blooming beneath the bandages.

“It is the NICU perimeter alert,” Margaret said, her fingers flying across her phone screen.