“She may be listed as Claire Bennett.”
The woman’s fingers paused above the keyboard.
A security officer approached from the hall.
“Sir, you need to step away from the desk.”
Damien looked at the officer’s hand near his radio.
In another setting, men reacted to Damien’s name by retreating.
Here, that name had apparently arrived before him as a warning.
He lowered his voice.
“My wife is pregnant.
A nurse called me because her condition changed.
I will not force my way into her room.
I need to know whether she and the baby are safe.”
The officer studied him, expecting anger.
Damien gave him none.
After a moment, the receptionist lifted the phone and spoke quietly to someone upstairs.
A nurse came down five minutes later.
Her badge read MARIA SANTOS.
She was in her fifties, with tired eyes and the steady posture of someone who had spent years standing between frightened patients and difficult families.
“Mr.
Moretti?”
“Yes.”
“Your wife is stable.
The baby’s heartbeat is present.”
Damien closed his eyes.
The relief was so sudden it hurt.
“Can I see her?”
Maria did not answer immediately.
“She signed a privacy restriction when she arrived.”
“Because someone told her I was dangerous.”
The nurse’s expression revealed nothing.
“She told us she did not feel safe returning home.”
The words landed harder than any threat Damien had ever received.
He looked through the glass doors toward the elevators.
“Please tell her I am here.
Tell her I will leave if she asks.
But first, give her this.”
He handed Maria the ultrasound envelope.
The nurse looked at the word MORETTI written across the front.
“What is it?”
“Proof that I finally listened.”
Maria carried the envelope upstairs.
Damien waited beneath fluorescent lights that made everyone look exposed.
He did not sit.
He did not call anyone.
He stood with rain drying on his coat while Luca remained near the wall.
Twenty minutes passed.
Then thirty.
At last, the elevator opened.
Maria stepped out alone.
“She will see you for five minutes.”
Damien followed her to the fourth floor.
Claire lay in a narrow hospital bed beside a silent monitor.
Her face was pale, and a bruise-colored shadow rested beneath each eye.
One hand covered her stomach beneath the blanket.
Her wedding ring was gone.
