Chapter 3 - The Shopping Trip
At the upscale Oakridge Mall, thirty miles away, the heating was set to a comfortable seventy-two degrees.
Diane Collins walked gracefully through the glass doors of a high-end boutique, a large designer shopping bag dangling from her manicured fingers. Behind her, her daughter Chloe was typing rapidly on her phone, while her husband, Richard, checked his gold watch.
Blake walked a few paces behind them, carrying three heavy boxes of designer shoes. His phone had been buzzing in his pocket for the last two hours, but every time he reached for it, his mother would sigh.
"Blake, really, put that away," Diane said, examining a silk scarf. "You're on family time. Honestly, Sarah is so dramatic. She probably just had some Braxton Hicks and is currently sitting on the couch eating ice cream, waiting to make you feel guilty the moment you walk through the door."
"I don't know, Mom," Blake muttered, a sudden, uncomfortable weight settling in his stomach. "She looked really pale. And she was thirty-eight weeks. The doctor said twins can come early."
"Oh, please. I had three children, Blake. I know what labor looks like," Diane dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "She just wanted attention because she knew we were going out. It's a classic manipulation tactic. If you run to her every time she whimpers, she’ll control you for the rest of your life."
"Your mother is right," Richard chimed in, not looking up from a magazine. "A man needs to establish boundaries early. Don't let her hold those kids over your head."
Blake swallowed hard, looking down at his phone. There were thirteen missed calls. None of them were from Sarah.
They were all from an unknown number.
Suddenly, the phone rang again. This time, Blake didn't care about his mother’s disapproval. He answered it.
"Blake?" a voice said on the other end. It was cold, deep, and dripping with a venom that made Blake’s blood run cold.
"Lucas?" Blake stammered. "Why are you calling me? How did you get this number?"
"I’m calling you from St. Jude’s Memorial Hospital," Lucas said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Your wife is currently in the ICU. She almost bled to death because you left her alone on the floor of your house to go buy shoes with your mother."
"What... what are you talking about? Is she okay? Are the babies—"
"If you want to see them alive, I suggest you get your pathetic excuse of a body down here right now," Lucas interrupted. "But let me make one thing clear, little brother. If you bring Diane or your father into this hospital, I will personally throw them through the glass doors. Do not test me."
The line went dead.
Blake dropped the shopping boxes. They crashed to the polished tile floor of the boutique, expensive leather shoes spilling everywhere.
"Blake! What on earth are you doing?!" Diane gasped, looking at the mess in horror.
"We have to go," Blake said, his voice trembling, his face completely devoid of color. "Sarah... she’s in the ICU. The babies... they're in the hospital."
Diane rolled her eyes. "Oh, I'm sure it's not that bad. Lucas is probably just exaggerating to make us look bad. You know how he is—"
"Shut up, Mom!" Blake screamed, his voice cracking.
The entire boutique fell dead silent. Diane froze, her mouth open in utter shock. Richard stood up, his brow furrowed in anger. "Don't you dare speak to your mother like that—"
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"I said shut up!" Blake yelled, tears finally spilling over his eyes. "She was telling the truth! She was in labor, and I left her! If my kids die... if Sarah dies... I will never forgive you. Either of you!"
He turned and ran out of the mall, leaving his family standing among the scattered shopping bags.
