I left the bench, my hips creaking and aching from falling asleep on the hard surface. The heat told me it was near midday, when it was the hottest and most humid. I wasn’t sure how long I’d slept, but it gave me the energy I needed to get through the rest of the day, and it had gotten my contractions to stop.
The walk up to the house didn’t take me long enough, but I had high, high hopes that Jared had left after that horrible conversation I overheard. Walking through the back doors, I heard muffled voices coming from the front of the house.
The voices moved closer, coming from the hall. I couldn’t even make a run for the stairs, since they would spot me if I did. So I went in the kitchen, scrounging through the cupboards for a container of peanut butter after getting some water from the fridge. My mother and an older woman with round, paunchy cheeks, gray hair in a chignon, and a white lab coat on found me sucking on a spoon of peanut butter.
“This is Chloe,” my mother told the woman, glaring at the jar of peanut butter in my hand.
While I was on the bench, I was able to find that strength within me, the strength that pushed me to leave in the first place. I wouldn’t allow this woman to stifle me ever again, no matter what hell she put me through, I wouldn’t let her snuff my light out. I returned her glare with the best mean-girl smile I could muster, which had her face hardening.
The woman looked me up and down, her eyes bulging when they rested on my stomach. “Can you leave us for a few minutes while we chat?” the woman asked my mother in a quiet tone, who turned a bored but haughty look in her direction.
“You have five minutes. Then we talk,” my mother commanded the doctor before leaving the kitchen.
She would likely be listening from the sitting room, but I couldn’t care less what she heard. The woman approached me slowly with pursed lips. She was looking at me as if I were a ferocious lioness, readying to pounce, which had me both wanting to laugh and feeling stronger. “I’m Dr. Francis. Can we talk for a few minutes?” she asked, her tone even quieter now. My mother had picked the wrong woman for this job. She wouldn’t accomplish her goals through this person.
“Isn’t that what you just told my mother we would be doing?” I deadpanned.
“Well, yes,” she said as she took a step closer to me. With a deep line between her eyebrows, she stared at my belly again. “Do you know why I’m here, Chloe?” she whispered as if she knew my mother was listening in.
With a raised brow, I said in a loud tone, “I have a pretty good idea. But you’re going to have to be the one to tell my mother she will not be able to accomplish what she’s trying to.”
Her lips became a thin line, confirming my absolute worst fear. I’d only guessed at it, not wanting to believe my parents were really that awful, but they were. They were monsters. “How far along are you?” she asked.
“About twenty-six weeks… with twins.” She nodded. “And I’m on a Zofran pump due to HG. They took me here against my will, so I was forced to leave behind my insertion kits and medicine.”
Her eyes were huge now, staring at the pump I had clipped to my skirt. It needed changing. It was almost out of medicine. When it was gone, I would no longer be able to fight the nausea that was always there. They’d already tried weaning me off it twice, and it was a no-go. I had the sinking feeling I’d be wearing the thing for the rest of my pregnancy. On top of the pump, they also had me start testing my pee to make sure I wasn’t becoming too dehydrated. I had none of my stuff with me. That more than anything else made me furious with my parents, with Jared for not letting me at least get some things before he dragged me home.
“Does your mother know about the pump?” She waved at it.
“I’m certain she does now, since she’s probably listening to our conversation.”
The doctor nodded. “I’m assuming you have a regular doctor?”
“Yes. Back in Tennessee. Where they took me from.”
“Right.” Her eyes were bugging out again as she slowly backed away. She knew just how deep of shit she’d be in if she stuck around. “I’m going to, um, go chat with your mother.”
She hurried out the kitchen swinging door, then hollered, “Oh!” as if surprised by my mother standing in the next room.
I scooted closer to the doorway, hearing Dr. Francis murmur to my mother. “You need to get her back to her doctor, or find a different one here. But she is much too far along for what you wanted to accomplish.” At that, my heart sank even further. I didn’t want to believe. I still couldn’t. How could they? How could they be so awful? “You gave me the impression she was wanting what you suggested.”
“You’re completely useless, and obviously have no idea who you’re dealing with,” my mother told her in a lifeless tone. I was shaking, tears running down my cheeks. I wanted to curl up in a ball on the floor and stay there until someone saved me from this hell. But I was alone. Just as I had been before. And I’d gotten out then. I could do it again. Somehow. “Henrietta will show you out.”
The contraction hit me so hard, I doubled over, yelling out. It hurt far worse than any of the others, starting in my abdomen and
