Chapter 1: The Red Alert
The fluorescent lights of the downtown architecture firm usually offered Ethan a sense of structured calm, but today, they felt suffocating. It had been three months since Claire gave birth to their son, Leo, and her postpartum recovery had been fraught with complications. A severe bout of anemia and chronic exhaustion had left her vulnerable, prompting Ethan to install a vital-monitoring app on her smartwatch that synced directly to his phone.
He was in the middle of reviewing a set of blueprints when his phone screen flashed violently. A blaring, high-pitched alarm echoed in his small office. He snatched the device off his desk. The screen glowed red with a medical alert from Claire's monitor: WARNING: Fainting, Severe Weakness.
Ethan’s heart dropped into his stomach. "No, no, no," he muttered, grabbing his keys and sprinting out of the office without a word to his colleagues.
The drive home was a blur of traffic lights and white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. His mind raced with a thousand terrifying scenarios. Claire was supposed to be resting today. His mother, Eleanor, had insisted on coming over to "help out" with the baby so Claire could sleep. Ethan had been hesitant—his mother was fiercely traditional and often critical—but Claire, exhausted and desperate for a reprieve, had agreed.
Tires squealing into the driveway, Ethan barely threw the car into park before he was out the door. He bounded up the porch steps and burst frantically through the front door, the heavy wood slamming against the wall.
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The immediate sound that hit him was a high-pitched, desperate wail. Leo was crying.
Ethan rushed down the hallway and into the living room, his eyes scanning the scene. The house smelled strongly of roasted meat and spices, an aroma that clashed violently with the panic in his chest. And then he saw her. Claire was lying flat on the living room couch, her face ashen, her eyes closed, completely unresponsive.
