“He isn’t taking this baby anywhere,” Thomas said.

“Sir, he’s the father,” the nurse said, her brow furrowing. “The hospital policy states—”

“I don’t care about the policy,” Thomas interrupted, his voice dropping to a dangerous register.

I grabbed my phone from the bed sheet.

My thumb hovered over Laura’s contact name.

I needed her to get here now.

“Tell him he can’t come up,” I told the nurse.

“He’s already in the elevator, Mrs. Parker,” the nurse said.

The red light on the wall above my bed began to blink, signaling an incoming page from the front desk.

The elevator doors down the hall chimed.

A heavy set of footsteps echoed on the linoleum outside my room.

They were steady, confident, and fast.

Thomas reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small digital recorder.

“Keep these papers under the blanket,” he whispered to me.

I slid the yellowed documents under my hospital gown, pressing them against my stomach.

The footsteps stopped right outside the door.

The handle turned.

The door swung open.

Ryan stood in the doorway, wearing a tailored navy suit and holding a leather designer diaper bag.