One of the paramedics handed me my phone, asking for my emergency contact. With trembling hands, I dialed Derrick’s number, praying he’d pick up, that somehow he’d remember the family he’d left behind. The line rang once, twice, and finally, answered; his voice sharp and tensed. He could have been feeling the consequence of the bond severing ritual now.
In the background, I heard Samantha’s voice, light and cheerful, as if nothing in the world could touch them.
The call ended abruptly, leaving me staring at the empty screen. The finality of his choice echoed through me. He had moved on without a backward glance, while I lay there fighting for the life of our child.
My heart pounded as I forced myself to dial again, this time calling my mother. She picked up on the first ring, her voice filled with worry. “Charlotte, is everything alright?”
“I… I’m going into labor,” I managed, fighting back tears as I clung to consciousness. “Mom, I need you.”
“Hold on, sweetheart,” she replied, her voice steady. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just hold on, alright?”