Chapter 6 - The Midnight Transfer
I scrambled up four flights of concrete stairs, my lungs burning and my legs heavy, but the thought of Ivy and the memory of my lost Lena kept me moving.
Reaching the fourth floor, I cracked open the heavy metal door. The hallway of Step-Down Unit 4B was eerily quiet. Standing outside Room 412 was Tessa Ward, crying quietly while a security officer blocked her path.
"Please, just let me hold her one last time!" Tessa begged the guard.
"Step back, ma'am. Orders are orders," the guard said sternly.
I slipped out from the service closet behind the guard, picked up a wet floor sign, and swung it with all my strength into the back of his knees. The guard collapsed to the floor with a groan.
Tessa gasped, her eyes wide. "Maren!"
"We don't have time," I breathed, opening the door to Room 412.
Inside, little Ivy was resting in her crib, an IV line taped to her tiny arm, and a transport carrier waiting beside her. I ran to the crib, expertly unclipping the heart monitor sensors and gently pulling the tape from her fragile skin.
"They were going to take her, Maren," Tessa sobbed, scooping Ivy into her arms and holding her tight against her chest. "They told me I was unfit."
"They say that to every mother they want to rob," I said fiercely. "Follow me. We’re getting out of here."
Just as we turned toward the exit, the elevator doors at the end of the hall dinged open. Nurse Delia Voss stepped out, holding a syringe filled with a clear sedative.
"You can't take her, Maren," Delia said, her voice trembling, tears streaming down her face. "If Vance fails, he'll ruin all of us. I had no choice back then! They threatened my license!"
"You always had a choice, Delia!" I yelled, stepping between her and Tessa’s baby. "You chose to destroy mothers! You chose to sell babies!"
Delia lunged forward with the syringe, but I grabbed her wrist, twisting it upward. We struggled against the hallway wall, the needle inches from my neck.
"I'm sorry about Lena!" Delia sobbed, her grip weakening. "I'm so sorry!"
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"Then help us fix this!" I screamed.
Delia froze. Her eyes met mine, seeing the pain of eleven years staring right back at her. Her hand relaxed, and the syringe dropped to the tile floor, shattering into pieces.
