Chapter 4 - The Battle for the NICU
By Wednesday afternoon, Ryan had been released on a twenty-thousand-dollar bond, paid for by an anonymous corporate entity linked to his shell companies. His first stop wasn't his office; it was the hospital.
Emma was standing outside the glass walls of the NICU, watching Nurse Maya adjust the tiny oxygen tube beneath Noah’s nose, when she felt a heavy, cold hand drop onto her shoulder.
"Hello, Emma," Ryan’s voice whispered directly into her ear.
Emma spun around, her heart leaping into her throat. Ryan stood there, wearing a fresh suit, but his eyes were bloodshot and frantic. He didn't look like the smooth businessman anymore; he looked like a desperate gambler who was down to his final chip.
"You think you’re safe because that old lawyer Vance is sniffing around?" Ryan hissed, his grip tightening on her shoulder until it bruised. "I still have legal guardianship over you, Emma. And until a judge signs a paternity revocation, that baby inside that incubator belongs to my estate. I am withdrawing him from this hospital against medical advice this afternoon."
"You can't do that!" Emma gasped, trying to pull away, but his fingers were like iron claws. "He needs the machine to breathe!"
"If he dies on the way to my private facility, then I collect the secondary infant mortality rider on the insurance policy your mother signed," Ryan smiled, a horrific, empty smile that made Emma’s stomach turn. "Either way, I get my money."
"Let go of her, Mr. Collins."
David Vance’s voice cut through the sterile corridor like a physical blow. He walked down the hallway flanked by Dr. Park and two armed county sheriffs.
Ryan slowly released Emma’s shoulder, stepping back with his hands raised in a mock gesture of surrender. "Ah, the white knight arrives. You’re too late, David. The hospital administration has already received my formal notification of transport. As the legal spouse and father, my signature overrides any temporary domestic dispute."
Dr. Park stepped forward, his face an unreadable mask of clinical authority. "Actually, Mr. Collins, your signature is currently worthless."
He pulled a digital tablet from his coat pocket. "The hospital lab completed the expedited genetic testing on the umbilical cord blood three hours ago—using the official, non-contaminated sample. The results have already been uploaded to the family court registry."
Dr. Park looked Ryan dead in the eye. "You have a rare genetic marker known as a non-secretor phenotype, Mr. Collins. The infant in that incubator possesses an O-positive blood type with zero corresponding markers to your lineage. You are not his biological father. Your legal standing to make medical decisions for Noah Collins has ceased to exist."
Ryan’s face transformed from arrogance to an ugly, feral rage. "That's a lie! She cheated on me! The kid is a bastard!"
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"The kid is my son," a weak, but fiercely clear voice called from the doorway.
Laura stood there, leaning heavily on a rolling IV pole, her hospital gown fluttering in the drafty hall, but her eyes were bluer and sharper than Emma had ever seen them. "And you are nothing to us anymore, Ryan. Get out of my sight before the sheriffs show you what happens to people who threaten my children."
