The bright white walls of Saint Jude Hospital felt cold and clinical under the harsh fluorescent fluorescent lights above. Emily lay flat on the hard hospital mattress, her delicate hands resting protectively over her seven-month pregnant belly. She had been admitted early that morning after suffering sudden sharp cramps that frightened her deeply. The monitors beside her bed beeped in a steady, reassuring rhythm, showing that her baby boy was thankfully safe and stable for now. But the peace in room three hundred four did not last long at all. The heavy wooden door burst open with a loud thud, hitting the doorstop hard enough to rattle the glass windows. In stepped Chloe, wearing a bright magenta pink dress that looked entirely out of place in a medical ward. Chloe was Emily's stepmother, a woman who had married Emily's late father only two years before his sudden heart attack. Her eyes were sharp and full of deep anger as she glared down at the young woman in the bed.
Chloe: You think you can just hide in this hospital room and pretend everything is fine?
Emily: Please, Chloe. I am sick today. The doctors said I need complete bed rest for the baby.
Chloe: I do not care about your little excuses or your doctor notes!
Chloe marched directly to the side of the bed, her tall high heels clicking sharply against the polished light marble floor. She pulled a folded set of white legal documents from her designer leather handbag and slammed them directly onto Emily's lap. The thick stack of papers carried the official bold seal of the county probate court right at the top page. It was a complete waiver form, demanding that Emily sign away her entire fifty percent claim to her father's multi-million dollar real estate trust fund and suburban family mansion.
Chloe: You are going to sign these papers right now before the lawyers arrive at five o'clock.
Emily: I will never sign my father's estate over to you. That inheritance belongs to my unborn child.
Chloe: You ungrateful little child! You think your father loved you more than me?
Without a single second of warning, Chloe raised her right leg and forcefully kicked the steel frame of the hospital bed. The sudden heavy impact sent a violent tremor through the entire frame, pulling hard on the thin IV line attached to Emily's arm. Emily gasped out loud in sudden terror, curling her shoulders tightly around her belly to protect her baby from any physical harm. The pain shot up through her lower back, making her eyes fill with heavy, burning tears of fear and frustration. Under the large American flag mounted high on the wall, Chloe leaned down until her cold face was only inches away from Emily's pale skin.
Chloe: Know your place, Emily!
Emily: Don't touch me again.
Emily spoke those four words in a stern, low whisper that carried an unexpected sharpness that made Chloe pause for a second. Emily did not scream or cry out for help like Chloe expected her to do. Instead, she locked her blue eyes onto her stepmother with a firm, unbroken determination that showed she was done being afraid. Her father had warned her about Chloe's extreme greed before he passed away, but Emily had never imagined the woman would resort to physical violence inside a busy medical facility. Emily slowly slid her right hand across the bedsheet toward her small white purse resting on the bedside table. Chloe noticed the small movement and stepped closer, raising her hand as if to slap Emily across the face to force her compliance with the legal waiver document.