Chapter 3 - AN EMERGENCY PETITION
The lock clicked so softly that Grace almost convinced herself she had imagined it.
Luka did not.
He crossed the room and tested the handle.
It did not move.
"Step away from the door."
Grace held Sophie against her chest.
"Why?"
"Because anyone willing to drug you may be willing to do more than lock a door."
"This is a hospital."
"Hospitals are buildings."
Luka looked through the narrow glass panel.
"Buildings are only as safe as the people inside them."
Grace hated how calmly he said it.
She hated more that she believed him.
Luka made one phone call.
"Six-fourteen."
He listened.
"Now."
He ended the call.
Less than a minute later, two men in dark suits appeared in the corridor.
One of them used a keycard.
The door opened.
The nurse named Linda Price was nowhere in sight.
A hospital security supervisor arrived seconds later, sweating beneath his collar.
"Mr. Moretti, there seems to have been a system malfunction."
Luka looked at him.
"Then your malfunction wears nursing shoes."
The supervisor blinked.
Luka held out his hand.
"Access logs."
"We can't release protected records."
"Door access logs are not medical records."
"I would still need authorization."
Luka smiled without warmth.
"You have thirty seconds to decide whether you want the authorization to come from your chief operating officer or from a judge."
The supervisor left.
Grace watched him go.
"Do people always do what you say?"
"No."
"It looks like it."
"The smart ones usually do."
Grace almost asked what happened to the others.
She decided she did not want the answer.
A woman in a navy suit entered the room carrying a leather briefcase.
She looked to be in her forties and had the steady expression of someone who lived inside courtrooms.
"Grace Bennett Cole?"
Grace nodded.
"I'm Maya Torres."
"I represent Mr. Moretti's company, and for the next hour I represent you if you want me to."
"Why only an hour?"
"Because after an hour, you should decide whether you trust me."
Grace liked her immediately.
Maya opened the briefcase.
"Your husband's petition is ugly."
She placed a copy on the rolling tray.
Grace read the first page.
Every sentence felt like someone describing a stranger with her name.
Ethan claimed Grace had become irrational during pregnancy.
He claimed she had threatened to disappear with the baby.
He claimed she had attacked Vanessa in a hotel hallway.
He claimed she had admitted the baby might not be his.
Grace's fingers shook.
"I never said that."
Maya turned a page.
"He attached text messages."
Grace stared at screenshots from her own phone number.
I SWEAR YOU WILL NEVER SEE THIS BABY IF YOU LEAVE ME.
SOMETIMES I THINK EVERYONE WOULD BE BETTER OFF WITHOUT ME.
I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO THE FATHER IS ANYMORE.
Grace looked up.
"I didn't write these."
"Do you still have your phone?"
Grace froze.
"Ethan took it last night."
"Why?"
"He said I needed to sleep."
Maya exchanged a look with Luka.
Grace saw it.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Look at each other like the stupid pregnant woman finally understands the obvious."
Luka's face changed.
"I do not think you're stupid."
"Then stop protecting me from information."
Maya nodded.
"Fair enough."
She turned another page.
"Ethan is asking the court to grant him temporary sole medical and physical custody until a psychiatric assessment is completed."
Grace's arms tightened around Sophie.
"No."
"He also asks the court to restrict you from leaving Cook County."
"No."
"And he has requested that the baby be transferred to the hospital nursery pending evaluation."
Grace stood.
"Absolutely not."
Sophie began to fuss.
Grace bounced her gently.
"Nobody is taking her."
Maya raised both hands.
"Then we fight the petition."
"How?"
"We need evidence."
"I just gave birth."
"I know."
"I don't have evidence."
"You have something better."
Maya looked at Luka.
"You have an opponent who prepared too early."
Grace frowned.
Maya tapped the filing time.
"Ethan submitted a sworn statement describing your postpartum behavior twenty-eight minutes before you were postpartum."
Grace stared at the page.
For the first time that morning, hope appeared.
It lasted less than ten seconds.
A hospital administrator entered with two security officers and a gray-haired doctor Grace had never seen.
The doctor held a clipboard.
"Mrs. Cole, I'm Dr. Warren."
"I'm here to conduct an emergency psychiatric assessment."
Grace looked at Maya.
"I did not consent to that."
Dr. Warren's eyes shifted toward the baby.
"Your consent is not required under the temporary safety order."
Maya stepped forward.
"What temporary safety order?"
The administrator handed her a faxed document.
Maya read the first line.
Her expression hardened.
"This order was signed six minutes ago."
Grace's stomach dropped.
Dr. Warren gestured toward the bassinet.
"For the baby's safety, I'm going to need you to place your daughter down and step away."
Grace backed against the wall.
"No."
The security officers moved closer.
Luka stepped between them and Grace.
"Nobody touches the child."
One officer swallowed.
"Mr. Moretti, we have a court order."
Luka looked at the document in Maya's hand.
"Then we obey the order exactly as written."
Maya's eyes moved quickly across the page.
Then she stopped.
"Wait."
Everyone looked at her.
"The order authorizes an evaluation."
She looked at Dr. Warren.
"It does not authorize removal of the infant."
The doctor frowned.
"Standard procedure requires separation."
"Then standard procedure can explain itself to the judge."
Grace looked at Luka.
He had not moved.
His body remained a wall between her and the officers.
Dr. Warren sighed.
"Fine."
He opened his clipboard.
"Mrs. Cole, have you had thoughts of harming yourself?"
"No."
"Harming your baby?"
"Never."
"Do you believe people are conspiring against you?"
Grace looked toward the locked door.
She looked toward the sedative that had nearly been injected into her.
She looked toward the husband who had filed a custody petition before their daughter was born.
The question was a trap.
She understood that now.
"I believe specific people have taken specific actions that my lawyer can document."
Maya smiled faintly.
Dr. Warren did not.
The interview lasted forty minutes.
At the end, he closed his clipboard.
"I see no clinical basis for an involuntary hold."
Grace nearly collapsed with relief.
Then Dr. Warren added one more sentence.
"However, someone entered a diagnosis of acute postpartum psychosis into your chart at 6:51 this morning."
Grace stared at him.
"Who?"
May you like
Dr. Warren turned the clipboard around.
The electronic signature belonged to a physician who had not worked at the hospital in nine months.
