Chapter 43 Miscarriage

Chapter 43 Miscarriage
"Jacob, look at her," Silas said, his voice calm but sharp. "Do you think she looks like a woman who wants to be rescued by a man who can’t even hold his own hand steady?"

Jacob didn't answer. He was staring at Lyara. He wanted to say something, to tell her that he was there to take her home, but the words were stuck in his throat. His mind was a mess of drugs and trauma.

"Silas, just tell him to go," Lyara whispered. "He’s hurt. He needs help."

"He’s not leaving without you, Lyara," Silas replied. "And you’re not leaving without me. That’s the problem, isn't it? Everyone wants a piece of you, but no one wants to pay the bill."

Jacob took a step forward, the gun shaking. "She’s coming with me. Mikael is in jail. He can't do anything to her anymore."

"Mikael is everywhere, Jacob," Silas said, stepping into the room. "Even in this room. Especially in her."

Silas pointed a finger at Lyara’s stomach.

Lyara felt a sudden, sharp jolt in her abdomen. It wasn't like the dull aches she had been feeling for the past few days. This was different. It felt like a hot blade had been driven into her hip and twisted. She let out a small, strangled gasp and doubled over, her hands clutching her bump.

"Lyara?" Jacob’s voice was filled with panic. He dropped the gun, the heavy metal thudding against the floor.

Lyara couldn't speak. The pain was blinding. It was a rhythmic, agonizing pulse that made her vision go white. She felt a sudden, warm rush of liquid against her thighs. She looked down, thinking her water had broken, but the liquid was too thick. Too dark.

A bright, red liquid began to flow down her legs, staining her gray leggings and dripping onto the cold stone floor.

"Oh my god," Jacob whispered, his face turning a sickly shade of white.
Silas, who usually remained unmoved by anything, actually paled. He took a step back, his eyes widening. He had seen blood before—he had spilled enough of it—but this was different. This was Mikael’s legacy. This was the only thing Mikael had ever asked him to protect at all costs.

"Silas..." Lyara reached out a hand, her fingers trembling. "Something is wrong. Help me. Please."

She tried to stand, but her legs felt like jelly. She collapsed back onto the floor, the blood now soaking into the thin mattress. She was terrified. She knew what this meant. She was only five months along. It was too early. Way too early.

At that moment, the door to the other room creaked open.

Elena stood there, her face pale and sunken. She was holding her portable oxygen tank, the plastic tube wrapped around her ears. She had heard the shouting, the thud of the gun, and the scream of her daughter. She walked slowly, her steps heavy and uneven.

"Lyara?" Elena called out.

When she reached the doorway, she saw it. The blood on the floor. Her daughter curled in a ball, sobbing in pain. Silas and Jacob standing there like statues.
Elena’s eyes went wide. The machine in her hand hissed, but it wasn't enough. She couldn't breathe. Her heart, already weakened by years of illness and the stress of the last few months, gave a final, violent beat against her ribs.

"Mama, no!" Lyara screamed, seeing her mother’s face turn blue.

Elena didn't say a word. She couldn't. She let go of the oxygen tank, the metal cylinder hitting the floor with a hollow bang. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed, her body hitting the floor right next to the pool of Lyara’s blood.

"Mama!" Lyara tried to crawl toward her, but another wave of pain hit her, so intense that she let out a piercing shriek before falling back.

Silas moved first. He didn't go to Elena. He went to Lyara. He grabbed her by the shoulders, his grip tight.

"Get the car ready!" Silas shouted at Jacob. "Now! Move, you idiot!"

Jacob was paralyzed. He was looking at the two women on the floor. The woman he loved and the woman who had treated him like a son.

"I... I can't," Jacob stammered.

Silas reached out and slapped him across the face. "Move! If she dies, Mikael will skin you alive. Get the SUV to the front door!"

Jacob stumbled out into the rain, crying. Silas lifted Lyara from the floor. She was limp, her head falling back against his shoulder. Her leggings were now completely soaked in blood.

"Don't leave her," Lyara whispered, looking at her mother’s still body. "Please... my mom..."

Silas looked at Elena. He knew the signs. She wasn't breathing. Her pulse was gone. But he couldn't leave a witness, and he couldn't leave her there.

"Pick her up!" Silas barked at one of the guards who had finally entered the room. "Put them both in the back. We’re going to the city."

"The city is two hours away, sir," the guard said, looking at the blood. "She won't make it."

"Then drive faster!" Silas yelled.

They carried them out into the storm. Lyara was placed in the back seat of the black SUV, her head resting on a pile of jackets. Next to her, they laid Elena. The guards didn't bother with the oxygen tank. It didn't matter anymore.

The drive was a nightmare. Jacob was behind the wheel of his own vehicle, following them, but Silas’s driver was pushing the SUV to its limits. They were sliding on the mud, the tires spinning as they raced down the cliffside.

Lyara was drifting in and out of consciousness. Every time the car hit a bump, she felt a fresh surge of pain and a new rush of blood. She looked at her mother’s face. Elena’s eyes were closed, her skin cold.

"Mama, wake up," Lyara whispered, her hand reaching out to touch her mother’s cold fingers. "Please don't leave me alone with him. I'm scared, Mama."

The blood was everywhere. It was on the seats, on the floor, on Lyara’s hands. She looked at it and felt a deep, hollow ache in her heart. She knew. She didn't need a doctor to tell her. She felt the emptiness growing inside her. The life that had been a tether to her survival was slipping away.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to her stomach. "I'm so sorry."

Silas was on his satellite phone, his voice low and urgent. "I need the surgical wing cleared. Now. And get the best cardiologist on standby. No, I don't care about the cost. Just have them there."

He looked back at Lyara. For the first time, Silas looked afraid. Not of the blood, but of the man who was waiting for the news. Mikael Roosevelt didn't accept failure. And this was the ultimate failure.

"Hang on, Lyara," Silas said, his voice unusually soft. "We’re almost there."

Lyara didn't respond. She closed her eyes and let the darkness take her, the sound of the rain and the siren-like hum of the engine being the last things she heard.

The black SUV tore through the winding coastal roads. Inside, the silence was only broken by the sound of the windshield wipers and Lyara’s heavy, wet breathing. She lay on the seat, her lower body wrapped in a dark blanket that was already turning a deeper, wetter shade of crimson. Every few seconds, a sharp gasp escaped her lips.
Next to her, Elena was still. Her face was ashen, her mouth slightly open. There was no rise and fall of her chest.

"Mama," Lyara whispered, her fingers brushing her mother’s cold cheek. "Mama, please wake up. We’re going to the hospital. You’re going to be okay."

Silas sat in the front passenger seat, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. He was constantly checking his watch. He had seen death many times, but this felt different. This was a double disaster. If Lyara lost the baby, Mikael’s plan would shatter. If
Elena died, Lyara would have nothing left to live for, making her harder to control.
"How far?" Silas barked at the driver.

"Thirty miles, sir. But the bridge is flooded. We have to take the long way around," the driver replied, his hands white on the steering wheel.

"Drive through it," Silas ordered. "I don't care if the engine stalls. Get her to that surgical wing."

Lyara felt another gush of heat. She squeezed her eyes shut, her head spinning. The pain was fading into a dull, numbing cold. She knew what that meant. Her body was giving up. She looked at the roof of the car, watching the shadows dance as they passed under the trees.

"Jacob..." she groaned.

Jacob was in the SUV behind them, but in her mind, he was still the boy from the academy her bestfriend. She didn't want this broken version of him. She wanted the man who promised her a life away from the Roosevelts.

"He’s right behind us, Lyara," Silas said, not looking back. "Focus on breathing. Just keep breathing."

"Is she... is she dead?" Lyara asked, looking at her mother.

Silas didn't answer. He knew Elena McKinley’s heart had stopped the moment she saw the blood in the cottage. The shock had been too much for her fragile system. But he couldn't tell Lyara that. Not yet.

"She’s just unconscious," Silas lied. "The doctors will fix her. Just like they’ll fix you."
Lyara let out a hollow, broken laugh. "You're lying. You always lie."

The car suddenly swerved, the tires screeching as they hit a patch of standing water. Lyara slid against the door, a fresh wave of agony ripping through her abdomen. She screamed—a high, thin sound that was cut short by a coughing fit. When she pulled her hand away from her mouth, it was spotted with red.

"We’re losing her!" the driver shouted.

"Shut up and drive!" Silas yelled back.

They finally saw the lights of the city in the distance. The hospital sat on a hill, its red neon 'Emergency' sign glowing through the rain like a hungry eye. Silas picked up the radio. "Team Alpha, we are two minutes out. Get the gurneys to the bay. Now!"
When the SUV slammed to a halt at the ambulance entrance, the doors were ripped open immediately. A team of nurses and doctors in blue scrubs rushed forward.

"Pregnant female, twenty-four years old, massive hemorrhage!" Silas shouted as he helped lift Lyara onto the first gurney.

Lyara felt the cold air hit her skin. She was being wheeled fast, the bright fluorescent lights of the hallway passing over her head like strobes. She looked to the side and saw another group of people lifting her mother from the car.

"Wait!" Lyara cried out, reaching for the other gurney. "Mama! Don't take her!"

"We have to go, Mrs. Roosevelt!" a nurse said, pressing a mask over Lyara’s face.

"Breathe in. Deep breaths."

"My baby..." Lyara sobbed into the mask. "Please... save my baby."

The doctor looked at the monitor as they pushed her into the elevator. He checked the portable ultrasound, his face darkening as he moved the probe over Lyara’s blood-soaked stomach. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. The silence of the machine told the whole story.

"We’re going straight to surgery," the doctor said. "She’s lost too much blood."
In the hallway, Jacob arrived, drenched and shaking. He tried to run after the gurneys, but security guards tackled him to the floor. "That’s my family! Let me go! Lyara!"

Jacob screamed until his voice gave out, his face pressed against the sterile tiles of the hospital floor. He watched as the heavy double doors of the operating room swung shut, locking him out of the only world he cared about.

Inside the quiet recovery area, Silas stood by the window. He pulled out his phone. His hand was steady, but his eyes were dark.

"Mikael," Silas said when the call was answered.

There was a long pause on the other end. "Report."

"We are at the hospital. Lyara is in surgery," Silas said.

"And the child?" Mikael’s voice was like ice.

Silas looked through the glass at the doctor who was walking toward him. The doctor shook his head slowly, his expression one of defeat. He held up a clipboard and pointed to the time of death.

"The baby is gone, Mikael," Silas said. "There was too much trauma. Too much delay."

The silence on the phone lasted for an eternity. Silas held his breath, waiting for the explosion, for the threats, for the rage. But when Mikael spoke, his voice was lower than a whisper, and it was far more terrifying.

"And Elena?"

Silas looked over at the other room, where a nurse was drawing a white sheet over Elena McKinley’s face.

"She didn't survive the trip," Silas confirmed. "Heart failure."

"So," Mikael said, and Silas could almost hear the man smiling in the dark of his cell.

"She has no one left. No child. No mother."

"She has nothing, Mikael."

"Perfect," Mikael whispered. "Now she belongs to me completely. Clean up the mess, Silas. I'll be out by morning."