“She forged these documents to try to take our baby.”

“She poisoned my wife.”

The second guard went to the side of the incubator to stand watch.

My mother tried to push past the first guard.

“He is lying,” she screamed.

“He is unstable.”

The guard took her by the arm.

“Ma’am, do not resist,” he said.

She twisted her body, trying to wrench herself free.

The forged power of attorney slipped from her fingers.

It fluttered to the floor, landing near my boot.

I bent down, picked it up, and folded it carefully.

I put it in my back pocket.

“Get her out of here,” I said.

My voice was quiet, but it did not shake.

The guards escorted her toward the exit.

She screamed my name, her voice echoing down the sterile hallway.

“You will rot in hell for this, Jake,” she yelled.

“She is my blood.”

The doors slid shut, cutting off the sound of her voice.

The room became very quiet.

The only sound left was the steady, rhythmic beep of the baby’s monitor.

I walked over to the incubator.