Chapter 5
The lead paramedic paused mid-motion, his hands hovering over the medical monitor as the words hung heavy in the air. He exchanged a sharp, knowing glance with his partner, who was busy sliding a oxygen mask over Claire’s pale face. The digital readout on the portable machine beeped in a steady, concerning rhythm, displaying dangerously low blood pressure and elevated heart markers that pointed to something far more severe than simple postpartum fatigue.
"Sir, her vitals are critically low. Her blood sugar is bottomed out, and she’s showing clear signs of severe dehydration and systemic exhaustion," the paramedic stated professionally, his eyes flicking from Leo to Eleanor with thinly veiled suspicion. "This isn't just normal tiredness. Has she consumed any food or water voluntarily in the last forty-eight hours?"
Leo shook his head fiercely, his chest tightening as the reality of the situation set in. "No. Every time she tried to rest, Eleanor—her mother—forced her back up. She told her she had to cook, that resting made her a bad wife. I was at the office downtown trying to secure our finances, trusting that family would help her recover. I didn't know it was a prison sentence!"
Eleanor stepped forward, her expression shifting from cold indifference to calculated offense. She adjusted the collar of her light beige dress with practiced elegance, attempting to reclaim control of the narrative. "You are exaggerating, Leo. Young people today are entirely too fragile. I was simply teaching her time-tested domestic discipline. A structured routine is essential for a new mother. She brought this state upon herself through stubborn resistance."
"Discipline?" the paramedic echoed, his voice dropping into a harsh, authoritative tone as he turned his full attention toward Eleanor. "Ma'am, withholding sustenance and forcing a postpartum woman into physical labor constitutes severe medical neglect. Her body is in a state of acute collapse. We need to transport her to the hospital immediately. If you attempt to interfere further, I am legally obligated to report this to law enforcement right now."
Eleanor’s facade faltered for a fraction of a second, a micro-expression of genuine shock flashing across her face before she quickly masked it behind a haughty glare. "You are vastly overstepping your professional bounds," she snapped, lifting her chin defensively. "I am her mother. I know what is best for my family."
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"Your family is currently dying on this sofa because of your medieval rules!" Leo roared, stepping forward before catching himself, remembering the newborn infant resting securely against his chest. He forced himself to breathe, grounding his turbulent emotions for the sake of his child. He looked down at the baby in the blue blanket, who was now sleeping peacefully through the chaos, completely unaware of the battle raging around him.
The paramedics hoisted the stretcher into position, lifting Claire’s limp form carefully onto the firm mattress. As they wheeled her toward the front door, the lead paramedic paused beside Leo, placing a firm, reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Get your bag, sir. Follow our ambulance straight to St. Jude’s General. You’re going to need to speak with the attending physician immediately. And keep that medical warning paper on the table—you're going to need to show it to the authorities."
