I found the remote on the bedside railing and turned it on, keeping the volume low.

A local news anchor was speaking.

Behind her was a graphic of the Holloway building and a photo of Grant looking solemn.

“…reports of a tragic turn of events for the Holloway family,” the anchor said.

“Sources close to the family indicate the newborn triplets may be placed in state custody temporarily due to a medical crisis involving the mother.”

I gripped the bedsheets.

My knuckles turned white.

The anchor continued, “We are receiving reports that the hospital administration is currently reviewing the mother’s admission records.”

The screen suddenly flickered.

Then, the television went completely black.

The lights in my room flickered once, then dimmed.

The steady beep of my heart monitor paused for a fraction of a second, then resumed on emergency power.

The electronic lock on my door made a loud, heavy *click*.

I stared at the door handle.

Slowly, it began to turn.

The door handle clicked.

I pulled the thin hospital blanket up to my chin.

My heart rate monitor beeped faster, its green screen glowing in the dim, emergency-lit room.