Chapter 2 - The Frost on the Glass
The freezing air didn't just chill my skin; it felt like needles pressing into my lungs with every gasping breath. My hands, which had been pounding against the thick balcony glass, were no longer turning red—they were a ghost-white, completely numb.
Inside the bright, warm living room, I could see the soft yellow ambient light from our dining room chandelier. My mother-in-law, Evelyn, was laughing at something on the television, holding a glass of white wine. The television was playing a festive holiday movie, the volume turned up high enough that my muffled screams were swallowed whole by the background music and cheerful laughter.
"Jacob!" I screamed, my voice cracking into a hoarse whisper. "Jacob, please!"
Another sharp, tearing cramp rippled through my lower abdomen. It was so intense that my knees buckled. I slid down the ice-slick glass door, my body curling into a protective ball on the concrete floor. The wind coming off the river swept across the balcony, tossing snow into my hair and over my thin cotton cardigan.
I held my belly with both arms, tears freezing against my eyelashes. Stay strong, little one, I prayed silently, my mind floating into a hazy fog. Please, just stay strong.
My vision started to darken around the edges. The sounds of the television inside drifted farther and farther away until there was only the rushing sound of wind in my ears. The last thing I remembered was the cold concrete against my cheek and the feeling of my breath fading into nothingness.
I had no idea how much time passed.
In reality, it was forty-five minutes before Jacob and his father finally walked back into the apartment from taking out the heavy trash bags.
When Jacob walked into the kitchen to grab a soda, he noticed the balcony door was locked. Through the frosted glass, shrouded by the dark winter night, he saw a dark shape huddled motionless on the concrete.
"What the..." Jacob muttered, unlocking the door and pulling it open.
The icy wind rushed into the warm apartment. Jacob stepped out, picked up the lantern from the patio table, and shone it down.
When the light hit my frozen, unmoving face, he dropped the lantern. The glass shattered across the balcony.
"HELEN!" Jacob shrieked, his voice echoing across the courtyard. "Dad! Mom! Help! Oh God, Helen!"
He dropped to his knees, scooping my stiff, unconscious body into his arms. My skin was as cold as ice, my lips a horrifying shade of pale blue. Down the front of my light gray sweatpants, a dark, alarming stain of blood had already begun to freeze.
His father, Richard, came running onto the balcony, followed by Evelyn and Brenda.
"What happened?!" Evelyn gasped, clutching her pearls. "Why was she out here?!"
Brenda stood in the doorway, her arms still crossed over her chest, a flicker of panic finally cutting through her cold expression. "I... I thought she was just taking out the trash. I didn't know she was still out there."
"She was locked out!" Jacob roared, tears streaming down his face as he lifted me into his arms and ran into the living room. "The door was deadbolted from the inside, Brenda! Who locked the damn door?!"
Brenda's mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.
"Call 911!" Richard screamed, grabbing his phone with shaking hands. "She isn't breathing right! Call an ambulance now!"
Fifteen minutes later, the paramedics burst into the apartment. They wrapped my hypothermic body in heated emergency blankets, strapped an oxygen mask over my face, and wheeled me out on a gurney. Jacob scrambled into the back of the ambulance, holding my frozen hand, sobbing hysterically.
When we arrived at St. Jude’s Memorial Hospital, I was rushed straight into the Trauma Resuscitation Unit. The medical team cut away my frozen clothes, applying warm IV fluids and heating blankets.
"She’s in severe hypothermia," the lead emergency physician, Dr. Chen, yelled to her team. "Core temperature is 89 degrees! Get the fetal monitor on her now! We have a twenty-eight-week gestation!"
The ultrasound technician squirted warm gel onto my abdomen and placed the transducer over my skin. For a terrifying ten seconds, the room was dead silent save for the hum of the warming machines.
Then, a faint, rapid double-beat echoed through the speaker.
Thump-thump, thump-thump.
"Fetal heart rate is present, but it’s dangerously bradycardic," the technician said. "Wait... Doctor, look at the screen."
Dr. Chen leaned closer to the monitor, her brow furrowing. She took the transducer and moved it gently across my upper abdomen.
"What is that?" Dr. Chen whispered, her eyes widening in absolute shock.
She turned to the head nurse. "Run an immediate full-spectrum toxicology screen, a comprehensive metabolic panel, and get Dr. Reynolds from High-Risk Obstetrics down here right now. We don't just have a hypothermia case here."
"What do you mean, Doctor?" the nurse asked.
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Dr. Chen pointed to the screen, where the ultrasound showed something that left every medical professional in the room stunned.
"She isn't carrying one baby," Dr. Chen said, her voice dropping into a tense hush. "She’s carrying non-identical twins. And look at the placenta... there’s evidence of chemical trauma. Someone has been feeding this woman high doses of uterine stimulants for weeks."
