Chapter 4

A few hours ago, I would have sprinted down the hall. I would have pushed past the pain, put my medical oath first, and done everything in my power to save a human life.

But my heart was dead.

"No," I said.

"What did you just say?" Nathan demanded.

I slowly sat up on the edge of the hospital bed. A sharp, agonizing cramp tore through my lower abdomen, a brutal reminder of the child I had just lost.

I looked directly into the eyes of the man I had loved for seven years, feeling absolutely nothing but disgust.

"I said no, Nathan."

"You get up right now!" he roared, pointing a shaking finger toward the door. "You get back in that operating room and you fix her! She is the mother of my child!"

"And your mother is the murderer of mine," I shot back. "Your mother shoved me to the floor. She killed my baby. Our baby, Nathan. The one I carried for eight weeks while you were busy screwing your assistant."

"That was an accident," he snapped coldly. "This is life or death. You took an oath, Candice. You are a doctor. You have to save Victoria."

I stood up. My legs trembled, but I locked my knees. I reached up and unclipped my hospital badge from my collar. I tossed it onto the floor at his feet.

Then, I grabbed the hem of my bloody scrub top and pulled it over my head, leaving me in just my black tank top and scrub pants.

I threw the bloody shirt directly at his chest. He batted it away, his eyes wide with shock.

"I am off the clock," I stated, my tone absolute. "I am no longer your wife. And I am certainly no longer her doctor. Let her bleed."

I turned my back on him. I walked to the small locker in the corner of the room and pulled out my leather duffel bag. I started shoving my street clothes and shoes inside.

"You can't do this!" Nathan shouted, following me across the room. He grabbed my shoulder, but I violently shoved his hand away. "If you walk out that door, I will ruin you, Candice! I will call the medical board. I will have your license revoked. You will never practice medicine again!"

"Try it," I challenged, zipping my bag shut with a sharp yank. "I have the recording of your confession. I have the security footage of your mother assaulting me. You have nothing but a dying mistress and a mother in handcuffs."

"Victoria is innocent in this!" he yelled. "She didn't do anything to you! She is my family now. I will save my family at any cost, do you hear me? I don't need you! I will find someone else to save her!"

"Then go find them," I said coldly.

I slung the heavy duffel bag over my shoulder.

Nathan rushed out of my room and sprinted toward the OR, shouting orders at the staff, vowing loudly that he would not let Victoria die.

I didn't look back. I turned my back on the flashing lights, the screaming monitors, and the frantic medical staff. I turned my back on my marriage.

I walked down the long, sterile hallway.

The exit was only fifty feet away. Forty feet. Thirty.

Suddenly, a piercing, high-pitched alarm shattered the chaotic noise of the hospital.

It wasn't coming from the adult operating rooms. It was coming from the opposite direction.

The NICU.

The shrill, rhythmic blaring echoed off the walls, signaling a catastrophic emergency.

I froze in my tracks, my medical instincts warring with my desperate need to flee.

The heavy double doors of the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit burst open.

A frantic pediatric nurse sprinted out into the hallway, her face pale with sheer, unadulterated terror.

She looked wildly around the corridor, her eyes wide and desperate.

"We need help!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "The premature baby boy is crashing! His organs are failing rapidly! He needs a specific, rare blood type immediately to survive, or he won't make it through the hour!"