Chapter 7
A profound wave of overwhelming relief washed over Marcus, loosening the iron grip of tension around his chest.
"Thank you, Doctor... can I see her?" Marcus asked, his voice softening for the first time all evening.
"She's sleeping off the anesthesia, but you can sit with her in recovery," the surgeon replied, patting Marcus on the shoulder.
Marcus walked quietly into the recovery bay, pulling a metal chair close to Elena's bedside under the dim lights.
Elena looked pale against the crisp white pillows, her breathing slow and even as her hand rested over her protected belly.
He gently lifted her limp hand, pressing his warm lips against her knuckles with a silent, desperate vow of eternal protection.
"You're safe now, sweetheart... no one will ever hurt you or our child again," Marcus whispered softly into the quiet room.
The digital heart monitor beeped in a steady, comforting rhythm, affirming that their family had survived the deadliest storm.
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Meanwhile, across town at the federal holding facility, Claire sat handcuffed to a metal table in a windowless interrogation room.
Her emerald green blouse was wrinkled, and her mascara was smeared as federal prosecutors walked in with massive evidence binders.
