As they began to wheel my bed out of the room, Grant tried to step forward, but the military police blocked his path.

I looked back, my chest heaving, as the doors to the operating room began to swing open.

The wheels of the gurney rattled loudly against the linoleum floor.

The ceiling lights passed overhead like rapid, white flashes.

The nurse squeezed my hand, her grip tight and steady.

“Stay with us, Colonel,” she said, her voice cutting through the noise.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a wild, erratic rhythm.

I could still hear Naomi’s words echoing in my ears.

*He used your forged signature… the lenders are already processing the foreclosure.*

My home.

The brick house in Alexandria that my mother had left me, the place where I had planned to raise my child, was being taken by strangers because of my husband’s greed.

The double doors to the operating room swung open with a heavy metallic clang.

“We need to get the baby out now,” the doctor said, his voice muffled by a blue surgical mask.