Chapter 3 - The Sanctuary
The interior of the mobile medical unit was a haven of warmth and sterile light.
Paramedic Sarah, a kind-faced woman with steady hands, wrapped me in heated blankets while running a quick diagnostic check on Noah and Emma. Both babies, thankfully, had remained insulated enough against my body heat to avoid any dangerous drops in core temperature, but my own vital signs told a different story. My blood pressure was dangerously low, and the strain of the cold and stress had caused my postpartum stitches to throb with a sharp, burning agony.
“You have a mild postpartum hemorrhage risk starting, Mrs. Vale,” Sarah said gently, sliding an IV needle into my hand to administer saline and restorative fluids. “We need to get you to Mercy General’s private executive maternity ward immediately. My supervisor has already cleared the VIP suite.”
“Not Mercy General,” I said, resting my head against the cushioned headrest while watching the snow fall outside the tinted windows. “Take me to the penthouse at the Meridian Tower downtown.”
Sarah blinked, surprised. “The Meridian? Ma’am, that’s a corporate residence, not a hospital—”
“It has a fully staffed private medical wing equipped by Mercer-Vale Healthcare,” I interrupted calmly, tapping the glass screen of my watch. “And my private physician, Dr. Hayes, is already waiting there.”
Before Sarah could argue, the driver’s radio crackled to life.
“Dispatch to Unit Four. We have an update from Vale Meridian corporate security. The property lock has been executed. All smart-home systems, locks, and vehicle ignitions belonging to Daniel Vale have been remotely disabled. The mother-in-law has been given two hours to pack her personal bags under sheriff supervision.”
I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second, letting out a long, slow breath.
Through the frosted window of the van, I watched the mansion we had shared for three years. The brilliant chandeliers inside suddenly blinked and plunged into total darkness as the smart-home hub executed its shutdown sequence. The automated security gates at the end of the driveway slammed shut with a heavy, metallic thud, locking from the outside.
On the porch, Daniel could be seen pounding his fists against the reinforced glass of the front door, shouting furiously into a dead cell phone as his power, heat, and communications were systematically snuffed out by a computer server operating forty floors above downtown.
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“Drive, please,” I said softly to Sarah.
The van eased away from the curb, leaving the house in the dark, freezing night where it belonged.
