Chapter 4: Millicent Makes Her Move
The private facility was nothing like the hospital Caleb had booked.
There were no shared corridors, no open waiting rooms, no place for uninvited family to sit and assert themselves.
A nurse met Rosalie at the entrance with a wheelchair and a calm that felt almost aggressive in the best possible way.
"We've been expecting you," the nurse said.
"Everything is ready."
Rosalie was checked, monitored, and settled into a room within twenty minutes.
The back pain, the nurse confirmed, was early labor.
Not dangerous.
But real.
"Your baby is coming tonight," the nurse said.
"Probably before morning."
Rosalie lay back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling.
Giancarlo sat in the chair beside the bed.
He hadn't left the room.
He hadn't asked permission to stay.
He had simply stayed, and she had not told him to go.
"I need to call Dara," Rosalie said.
"Already done.
She's on her way."
Rosalie turned her head to look at him.
"You know Dara?"
"Your mother told me about her.
I called her from the car while you were being admitted." He held up his phone briefly.
"She said, and I'm quoting directly, 'Tell Rosalie I'm already in the car and she better not have that baby without me.'"
Rosalie closed her eyes.
Something in her chest loosened slightly.
"That's Dara."
"She sounds formidable."
"She is."
A contraction moved through her, slow and insistent.
She breathed through it.
When it passed, she opened her eyes again.
"Caleb will find out where I am."
"Eventually.
Not tonight."
"He'll come."
"He's welcome to try.
This facility has a strict visitor protocol.
No one enters without prior authorization from the patient." Giancarlo set his phone on the arm of the chair.
"Your name is the only one on the authorization list right now.
Dara's will be added when she arrives."
"And yours?"
He looked at her steadily.
"Only if you want it there."
Rosalie was quiet for a moment.
"Leave it," she said.
"For now."
He nodded once and didn't make anything of it.
Her phone lit up on the bedside table.
She looked at the screen.
Caleb.
She let it ring.
It stopped.
Then started again.
She turned it face-down.
"He's going to tell me I overreacted," she said.
"He's going to say Millicent was just upset.
That the document was a misunderstanding.
That I scared everyone by leaving."
"Yes," Giancarlo said.
"He probably will."
"And part of me will want to believe him.
Because it's easier." She said it plainly, without shame.
"I've been believing easier things for two years."
"I know."
"My mother saw it, didn't she."
It wasn't really a question.
Giancarlo answered it anyway.
"She saw it from the beginning.
She said she tried to tell you once, early on, and you asked her not to say anything more about Caleb.
She respected that.
She blamed herself for respecting it too long."
Rosalie pressed her hand flat against her sternum.
"She never said a word to me.
Not once after that."
"She didn't want to push you away."
The room was quiet except for the soft rhythm of the monitor.
"She should have pushed," Rosalie said.
Then the door opened and Dara came through it like a weather event — coat half off, bag over one shoulder, eyes going immediately to Rosalie with an expression that was equal parts fury and relief.
"I drove eighty miles an hour on the interstate," Dara announced.
"Nobody stop me." She dropped her bag, crossed the room, and took Rosalie's hand in both of hers.
"You look terrible."
"Thank you."
"I mean it in a loving way." Dara looked at Giancarlo.
"You're the father?
The real one?"
"I am."
"Good." She turned back to Rosalie.
"Now tell me everything.
Start with Millicent's face when he walked in."
For the first time in hours, Rosalie almost smiled.
She started talking.
She was still talking twenty minutes later when her phone lit up again.
This time it wasn't Caleb.
It was a number she didn't recognize.
She almost ignored it.
Then she saw the text that came through beneath it.
*This is Marcus Hale.
I was Caleb's attorney.
I'm the one who sent the document to your father.
There's something else you need to know.
Something I didn't include.
Call me when you can.*
Rosalie stared at the screen.
Dara leaned over and read it.
Her grip on Rosalie's hand tightened.
May you like
"Something else," Dara said quietly.
"Something else," Rosalie repeated.
