Chapter 38
CHAPTER
THE WHOLE WORLD disappeared.
One of the EMTs handed me a bundle in a blanket.
Though I was nearly blind with pain and exhaustion, I’ll never forget the moment I first laid eyes on my son.
My eyes combed his entire body, taking in every wrinkle, every tiny toe and finger—and those beautiful brown eyes, framed by whisper-thin lashes and delicate wisps of brown hair.
I was so captivated by the sight of my son and still so overcome by shock that I was actually holding him in my arms, I only vaguely registered the flurry of activity going on around me.
The EMTs wheeled my gurney back out into the early morning light, and immediately into the ambulance, which took us to a nearby hospital.
I didn’t even notice I had been taken to a post-delivery room in the maternity ward until a nurse dressed in lime green scrubs and a face mask finally captured my attention and told me they needed to take my son to be examined, to make sure he was okay.
As soon as my arms were empty, the gravity of my situation finally settled, like a thousand-pound weight placed right on my chest. My feet felt like they had been through a wood chipper, and looked like it too, covered in cuts, bruises, and ugly friction burns.
The entire right side of my face felt like it was on fire from the gouging of that tree branch, and my right eye was now completely swollen shut.
It felt like a thousand tiny knives were stabbing me in the face as another nurse, whose name badge said GAIL, cleaned my cuts with antiseptic and applied ointment and bandages.
Another nurse came to give me a cursory bath with hospital-grade body wipes while Gail set up an IV full of antibiotics and vitamins to nourish and rehydrate me.
When a physician named Dr. Kelly finally came in to see me, I was immensely relieved to hear that, other than my surface injuries, which would all heal in time, I would be fine. Miraculously, she also said my son was doing well.
“Even though he was three weeks early? And I was given so many drugs to force me into labor?” My voice trembled.
“Yes.” Dr. Kelly gave me a reassuring smile. “Your son weighed in at six pounds, five ounces, and appears perfectly healthy.”
Tears slid down my cheeks again, dampening the bandages on my face, but this time—and for the first time in a long time—they were happy tears.
I could hardly wait to close my eyes and get some rest, but first, the officers who had rescued me had some questions.
Though I felt like my brain was full of sand, I managed to recount everything I remembered, from being knocked out in my apartment, to waking up in the cabin with Madison and Nora holding me captive, and Max showing up a short while later.
I explained that Jenna was being held captive there too and looked like she had been there for quite a while before I arrived.
“Yes, we found Jenna Martin, in one of the back bedrooms,” one of the officers said grimly.
“Is she …” I choked on the word, unable to finish my sentence. “Is she …?”
The officer sighed. “She was barely hanging on when we found her, but she was alive. She’s here in the hospital.”
I let out a huge breath. “Oh my God—I can’t believe it!”
“She was shot in the clavicle,” the officer said, pointing, “and the other bullet just grazed the side of her head. Even half an inch to the left and she would have died instantly.”
“She’s in critical condition right now and needs a blood transfusion,” the first officer said. “They’re trying to stabilize her enough to get her into surgery, to remove the bullet fragments from her chest.”
“We also found a woman named Colleen Nichols just outside the cabin. What can you tell us about her?”
“Oh my God, yes! Colleen!” I explained how Colleen had been hired by Nora Clark to assist with my “home birth,” but that once she found out the real story, she’d bravely helped me escape, despite the fact that they had threatened her—and ultimately, that Madison had shot her.
“Will Colleen be okay?” I asked. It felt like too much to hope.
“Yes,” said the first officer. “She sustained a gunshot wound to the shoulder, but she is expected to have a full recovery.”
“You know—you can thank her for helping to save your life,” the second officer chimed in. “She managed to get a message out via social media to a relative, who called 911.”
Hearing that elicited more happy tears from me—I couldn’t even begin to comprehend how much I owed that woman for what she had risked to help me.
I learned that Madison was under arrest. Max was in surgery; it was touch-and-go, but if he survived, he would be arraigned as soon as he was well enough to go before a judge. They both faced a long list of charges.
I told them I’d overheard Nora say that she was heading to a hotel in the city to try and establish a phony alibi for her and Madison with an old photo.
“We have people on the way to pick her up,” they assured me.
When they finally left, I felt overwhelmed, but I also felt a glimmer of hope growing inside me.
I didn’t know quite what the immediate future held for me and my son, but I was so very, very grateful that, for the first time, it appeared as though that future would include our freedom from Max and the Clark family.
Though it made me nervous to ask the universe for another favor, before falling asleep, I said a quick prayer that Jenna would make it.
Yes, I’d had a very tough year, but I must have done something right, because the fates had allowed both me and my son to be okay.
The universe and I hadn’t always gotten along—between being abandoned by my father, unexpectedly dumped by the man I thought I would grow old with, and the horrors of the past eight and a half months, I’d started to hate it.
But here, today, my child and I were both alive, and that felt like the best gift imaginable.
Maybe there was a little hope still floating around for Jenna?
After I had a short nap, Nurse Gail came in with my son so I could learn how to feed him.
I had some difficulty, but they said that was normal with premature births and told me to be patient—my body would start producing milk soon.
In the meantime, I got to enjoy some skin-to-skin contact with my child while feeding him with a bottle, which was one of the most magical experiences of my life.
At one point, he opened his eyes and looked right at me, and it took my breath away.
My smile was so wide, I felt like my face might split in two. I was so in love with this tiny human.
Later, Nurse Gail arrived to tell me I had visitors—Mom and Ellie. I burst into tears at the sight of them.
I relayed the whole terrifying story. I felt like I had aged ten years in just two days’ time. Both Mom and Ellie cried at everything I had been through—and what had happened to Jenna.
“I just wish I hadn’t gone to work yesterday—then maybe none of this would have happened,” Ellie said between sobs. “When I couldn’t reach either of you later in the day, I knew something was wrong. I was so scared.”
“None of this is your fault,” I told her. “And Mom—I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Yes, I’ll be fine.” Mom explained that she had parked on the street outside my apartment, and when she went to get out of the car, a woman had shoved her back inside and held a foul-smelling cloth over her mouth.
She had woken up several hours later after passersby had pounded on the window for quite a while, finally calling 911 when she wouldn’t respond.
Other than falling unconscious, she was unharmed.
“It’s you I’m worried about,” she said, taking in the sight of the bandages on my face and feet.
But she held my face in her hands and pressed her forehead to mine.
“You are so strong, my darling Savannah. You’ll get through this. You’re going to be an amazing mother.”
“Speaking of which—there’s someone you need to meet,” I said with a huge smile as Nurse Gail returned with my son. She had cleaned him up and put him in a plain white onesie with the tiniest pair of socks I’d ever seen, and a little cap to keep his head warm.
Ellie’s smile grew three sizes, and Mom’s eyes filled with happy tears as they both got their first look at my little bundle of joy.
I gingerly handed the baby to my mom. She pulled back the blanket he was swaddled in, marveling at how tiny, soft, and precious he was. “He’s just so perfect,” she said in complete awe, as a tear slid down her cheek. “Absolutely perfect.”
Ellie peered over Mom’s shoulder, gently squeezing the baby’s tiny foot and smiling down at him as she made cooing noises. “So, what are you going to name this little guy?”
I was speechless for a moment. With everything that had been happening, I hadn’t even begun to think up possible names. “Geez, I have no idea. Any thoughts?”
“Well, the names Max Jr. and Charlie are right out,” Ellie said sarcastically. “What about Rick? I always liked that name. You can call him Ricky for short while he’s young, which is adorable.”
As Mom beamed down at her grandson, she said, “You need something that reflects how strong and resilient he is.” She gently bounced, rocking the baby in her arms. “The names Evander and Gabriel both mean ‘strength.’ ”
I laid my head back on the pillow as I pondered her suggestions. “I love that, Mom. We can definitely all use some strength right now. Evander is a great name … Evan Mitchell.” Just saying the words prompted my lips to stretch into a smile. I took that as a sign.
“Oh, I love it!” Ellie said with a huge grin as she looked down at him. “Welcome to the world, Evan Mitchell.”
Though I was reluctant to hand my son back to the nurses, even I had to admit that my poor, beaten and bruised body needed some rest. Ellie took Mom back to my apartment for a while, and they promised to come back later.
Barely a few minutes after they left, there was another knock on my door. Nurse Gail came in, joined by a police officer.
“Miss Mitchell, there’s someone here who would like to speak with you,” the nurse said. The police officer stood behind her, watching me, his hands resting on his utility belt.
“Who is it?”
“An attorney.”
“Oh! Is it Alex Hirsch?” I asked, wondering if it was my public defender.
“No … he says he’s an attorney for a Charles Clark.”
Charles … as in Charlie … Clark.
Madison’s father.