Chapter 6 - The Emergency on the Lawn
The remaining guests murmured in fresh alarm as Doctor Harrison dropped to his knees beside the garden bench, tearing open his black leather medical case with practiced speed. Clara gripped the wooden armrests of the bench so hard her knuckles turned translucent, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
"Breathe, Clara. Focus on me," Eleanor instructed, kneeling directly in front of the bench, completely unconcerned about the delicate white lace of her wedding dress dragging in the dirt. She grabbed Clara’s free hand, squeezing it tightly. "You are safe now. The baby is safe. Just breathe."
"It’s... it’s too early," Clara sobbed, arching her back slightly as a severe contraction gripped her abdomen. "We’re still three weeks away... the stress, the shock..."
"We have a full mobile medical team stationed at the security gate," Doctor Harrison said calmly, pressing a stethoscope against Clara’s abdomen while adjusting a portable fetal monitor. "Heart rate is strong, but labor has definitely been triggered by the trauma. Eleanor, I need you to help me steady her hips while I administer an intravenous relaxant."
Mr. Sterling watched from a few paces away, his expression unreadable, though a deep crease of worry furrowed his brow. He pulled out his encrypted satellite phone, dialing a private hospital administrator to clear the VIP maternity ward immediately.
"The ambulance is five minutes out, but we can't wait that long if the dilation is moving this fast," Doctor Harrison muttered, his brow slick with sweat. He looked up at Eleanor. "We have to move her inside the mansion. The drawing room has a flat sofa and temperature control."
Eleanor nodded without hesitation. "Help me lift her. Gently."
Together, the bride—still wearing her pearl crown and stained wedding gown—and the doctor hoisted Clara from the bench. Despite her exhaustion and the emotional wreckage of the past hour, Eleanor’s grip was steady and unwavering. They carried Clara across the stone terrace, past the bewildered remnants of the wedding party, and into the grand foyer of the mansion.
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As the heavy oak doors closed behind them, shutting out the murmuring crowd, Clara’s phone buzzed one last time on the floor of the foyer, displaying a missed text message from Julian’s defense attorney containing a secret asset location neither of them knew existed.
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