Chapter 4 - The Girl in Room 412
St. Jude’s County Hospital smelled of industrial bleach and boiled floor wax. It was an old, underfunded brick facility that served the county's low-income population, a stark contrast to the gleaming private maternity clinic Sarah had falsely claimed to attend.
Detective Miller led David and me through the fifth-floor double doors of the labor and delivery ward. A female officer had already been stationed outside Room 412, her arms crossed, eyeing every passerby with razor-sharp focus.
"How is she?" Detective Miller asked the guard.
"Resting," the officer replied quietly. "The ward nurse said her blood pressure spiked earlier from stress. She came in alone with a duffel bag containing two worn baby onesies and a pack of diapers. She has no idea what’s been happening outside."
My heart clenched. I thought of the mountain of gifts currently sitting on my living room floor—designer swaddles, organic cotton blankets, sterling silver rattles, and cases of premium formula—all bought with money scammed by my sister.
Detective Miller knocked softly on the wooden door before pushing it open. "Rebecca? My name is Detective Miller. I have some people here who need to speak with you."
The girl in the bed looked so much younger than seventeen. She had dark, sunken eyes surrounded by shadows, her curly hair pulled back in an untidy bun with a frayed rubber band. Her belly rose sharply beneath the thin hospital sheet, heavy and real. An IV line was taped to the back of her small hand, running up to a saline bag.
When she saw the police badges, she pulled the blanket up to her chin, terror flashing across her pale features. "Did... did the shelter call you? I paid my room fee, I swear. I have the receipts in my bag—"
"No, Rebecca. Nobody called from the shelter. You’re not in any trouble," Detective Miller said in a reassuring tone, pulling up a visitor's chair. "We’re here because of someone you’ve been seeing around the hospital."
He slid a color printout of Sarah’s driver’s license onto the bedside table.
Becca looked at the photo. Her eyes softened, and she let out a sigh of relief. "Oh. That’s Nurse Sarah. Is she here? She said she was going to be on duty for my delivery tomorrow. She’s... she’s the only person who’s been nice to me."
A cold shudder ran through my entire body. I had to grip David’s arm to keep my balance.
"Nurse Sarah isn't a nurse, sweetheart," I said, my voice shaking as I stepped closer to the bed.
Becca frowned, looking between me and the detective. "What? Yes, she is. She comes to the prenatal clinic on Tuesdays. She brought me a maternity coat when it got cold last month. She told me she worked in the neonatal intensive care unit. She said... she said if I got scared during labor, she would hold my hand and make sure the baby was taken care of."
"Becca," Detective Miller said with heartbreaking gentleness. "Her name is Sarah Miller. She isn't an employee here. She has never worked in healthcare. For the past six months, she has been planning to abduct your baby after you deliver."
Becca stared at him. The silence in the room stretched until the faint electronic beep of her heart monitor began to accelerate. *Beep... beep... beep-beep-beep.*
"No," Becca whispered, shaking her head violently. "No, she gave me prenatal vitamins. She helped me pick out baby names. She said... she said she had a sister who didn't understand how blessed she was, and that she wanted to help a girl who really needed a break."
"I am that sister," I choked out, tears burning my eyes. "And she was using you. She faked an entire pregnancy to her family, stole thousands of dollars from her boyfriend, and bought equipment to take your baby out of this hospital tomorrow morning."
Becca looked down at her swollen stomach. She reached out with both hands, clutching her bump through the thin sheet, her breath hitching into sharp, ragged gasps.
"She touched my stomach," Becca sobbed, her voice breaking into a terrified wail. "She put her hands on me last week in the waiting room! She asked me what size clothes the baby would wear! She asked me if I had any family who would come visit after the birth! I told her I had nobody! I told her no one would even notice if I wasn't around!"
The heart monitor shrieked with an alarm.
A nurse rushed into the room, checking the vitals monitor. "Her systolic pressure is over one-eighty! She’s experiencing severe distress. What is going on in here?"
"Get the doctor," Detective Miller commanded. "She’s going into hypertensive shock."
Becca clutched my wrist with incredible strength, her eyes wide with primal, animal terror. "Don't let her take him! Please! Don't let her take my son!"
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"Nobody is taking him, Becca," I swore, leaning over her, tears dripping onto her hospital gown as I held her shaking hand. "I swear to you on my life. Nobody is touching your baby."
***
