Chapter 5: The NICU Vow
Two hours later, a nurse helped me into a wheelchair and pushed me down the long, quiet corridors to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit.
I washed my hands, put on a yellow sterile gown, and wheeled myself toward Incubator 14.
When I finally saw him, my breath hitched in my throat.
He was so incredibly tiny. His skin was translucent, covered in soft wires and monitoring patches. A small CPAP machine helped him breathe, his little chest rising and falling in rapid, fragile rhythms.
I reached through the circular porthole of the incubator. I didn't dare pick him up, but I gently rested my index finger against his palm. Immediately, his tiny, perfectly formed fingers curled tightly around mine.
Tears spilled over my cheeks, hot and fast.
"Hi, Leo," I whispered, naming him right there in the quiet hum of the machines. "I'm your mom. I'm right here. I'm never leaving you."
The heavy double doors of the NICU swung open.
I didn't have to turn around to know who it was. The sharp click of expensive heels and the overwhelming scent of designer perfume invaded the sterile ward.
Liam walked in, flanking his mother, Valerie, and his sister, Brittany. Valerie was holding a cheap, blue drugstore teddy bear and a half-empty cup of iced coffee.
"Oh, good lord, it smells like bleach in here," Valerie complained loudly, waving a manicured hand in front of her face. "Liam, how long do we have to stay? I have a massage booked at four to help me destress from that horrible scene at the party."
A pediatric nurse immediately stepped forward, looking furious. "Ma'am, you need to lower your voice, and no outside beverages are allowed in this ward."
Valerie rolled her eyes, handing the iced coffee to Liam. She strutted over to my wheelchair, looking down at the incubator with mild distaste.
"Well," Valerie said, examining Leo like he was a defective piece of merchandise. "He's very small, isn't he? I suppose that's what happens when a mother doesn't take care of herself and throws a tantrum on wet concrete."
Brittany leaned over, snapping a photo of the incubator with her phone, the flash glaring harshly against the plastic. "I'm posting this to Facebook. Everyone has been asking why the baby shower ended so early."
"No pictures," I said quietly, keeping my eyes fixed on my son.
Liam sighed, placing a hand heavily on my shoulder. "Charlotte, stop being difficult. My mother drove all the way back here to check on you. The least you can do is be gracious."
I finally turned my head. I looked at the three of them—the people who had stolen my money, laughed as I drowned, and blamed me for the premature birth of my child. They were so confident in their power over me. They genuinely believed the money was safely secured in Valerie's bank account, and that I would just accept the abuse to keep the peace.
"Valerie," I said softly, my voice perfectly level. "Did the mortgage payment go through?"
Valerie smiled, a vicious, triumphant smirk. "It did, sweetheart. And I didn't even get a late fee. Family money stays with family. It's a shame you had to be so dramatic about it."
"I'm glad," I said, turning my gaze back to my son. "Enjoy the condo."
Valerie scoffed, dropping the cheap teddy bear on a nearby sterile tray. "Come on, Liam. Let's go. She's in one of her moods."
As they turned and walked out of the NICU, I didn't flinch. I just stroked my son's tiny hand.
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They thought they had won. They thought they had taken my money and broken my spirit. They didn't know they were already living in a house I owned, built on a felony I could trigger with a single phone call.
"Get strong, Leo," I whispered to the glass. "Because when we get out of here, Mommy is going to take everything they have."
