Chapter 2

I burst into Stella' s apartment to find a scene of controlled chaos. Paramedics were already there, working on my sister. She was pale, lying on the floor, a pool of blood spreading on the light-colored rug beneath her.

Matthew was a mess, his face white with terror.

"They said it' s a placental abruption," he stammered, grabbing my arm. "Just like the doctor warned could happen with all the stress."

"She' s hemorrhaging," one of the paramedics said, not looking up. "We need to get her to the hospital. Now."

I followed them, my mind racing. At the hospital, the emergency room doctor was blunt.

"We' ve stabilized her for now, but she' s not out of the woods. The abruption was severe. The baby is in distress. We need to perform an emergency C-section."

He paused, his expression grim. "But there' s a problem. A big one. The hospital' s financial office just flagged her account. There' s a court order freezing all her assets. We can' t admit her for surgery until it' s lifted."

Matthew' s head snapped up. "What? That lawsuit... I thought it wasn' t serious."

"It is now," the doctor said. "They got an emergency judgment. Everything is frozen. Your bank accounts, her business accounts, everything. We need an emergency injunction to stop it, or we can' t operate. Our hands are tied."

Just like before. The exact same trap.

"We have to call your father," Matthew said, already pulling out his phone. "He' s the only one who can fix this, Jocelyn. He can get an injunction in his sleep."

"No," I said, my voice sharp. "Don' t call him."

Matthew stared at me, confused. "What are you talking about? Stella' s life is on the line!"

"He' s on his anniversary trip with Debra," I said, trying to sound reasonable, trying to hide the terror in my voice. "We can' t ruin it for him."

"Ruin it?" Matthew' s voice rose, incredulous. "Jocelyn, are you hearing yourself? Who cares about his trip? Stella could die!"

He didn' t understand. He couldn' t. He didn' t have the memory of our father' s cold voice on the phone, the hatred in his eyes. He didn' t know that calling him was a death sentence.

But he was already dialing.

"It' s too late," I thought, a cold dread washing over me. He was making the call that would destroy us all over again.