Chapter 13 - The Final Ultimatum
My heart stopped.
Time seemed to slow down to a crawling, agonizing freeze. I instinctively threw both hands over my stomach, stepping backward against the concrete pillar of the pavilion entrance.
Owen didn't hesitate. Before Denise could pull her hand from her pocket, Owen lunged forward, grabbing both of her wrists in a crushing grip and slamming her against the hood of the gray sedan.
A heavy, silver digital voice recorder fell from her pocket, clattering against the asphalt—not a weapon, but something far more insidious: she had come to bait me into a confrontation to manufacture evidence for her criminal defense.
"Let me go!" Denise shrieked, thrashing against Owen’s grip like a feral animal. "She's an unfit mother! I have rights! Grandparents have rights in this state!"
Siren wails cut through the air, growing deafeningly loud within seconds. Two police cruisers tore into the medical complex lot, followed immediately by Tyler’s black truck.
Tyler jumped out of his vehicle before it had even come to a complete halt.
"Mom! Stop!" Tyler screamed, running across the pavement toward the scene.
Four officers surrounded the car with weapons drawn, commanding Owen to step back. Owen complied, raising his hands and stepping smoothly between me and the police line.
An officer forced Denise onto the hood of the car, twisting her arms behind her back and snapping steel handcuffs around her wrists.
"Denise Mercer, you are under arrest for violation of a protective order, criminal stalking, and felony grand larceny," the officer barked, reciting her rights as she screamed obscenities into the metal of the squad car.
Tyler stopped three feet away from his mother, staring at her in utter horror.
"Tyler! Tell them!" Denise sobbed, her manic rage instantly transforming into crocodile tears. "Tell them she provoked me! Tell them you want me to raise that baby! Tyler, look at me! I am your mother!"
Tyler looked at her, his face stone cold, devoid of any hesitation or fear.
"You aren't my mother," Tyler said softly, every word laced with absolute finality. "You're a criminal who stole my father's legacy and tried to destroy my child. I gave the district attorney the key to your safe deposit box an hour ago. It's over, Mom."
Denise’s face twisted in horror as the officers forced her into the back of the cruiser, slamming the door shut.
Tyler turned toward me, his eyes filled with overwhelming relief and sorrow. "Claire... are you okay? Is the baby okay?"
I took a step toward him to answer, but before a single word could leave my lips, a sharp, excruciating cramp tore across my lower abdomen.
A gasp tore from my throat as my knees buckled.
"Claire!" Owen yelled, catching me before I hit the ground.
A warm rush of fluid broke against the pavement beneath my shoes.
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I looked down in terror at my water breaking, thirty-three weeks along, while sirens still echoed in my ears and hospital alarms began to blare inside the lobby.
"The baby," I choked out, gripping Owen’s shoulder with white knuckles as another intense contraction ripped through my body. "Owen... she's coming right now!"
