Chapter 2 - THE MAN WHO CAME BACK TOO LATE
“Your husband isn't coming through that door, Mrs. Moretti. If you want your baby to live, you have to trust me.”
Daniel Reyes spoke firmly, but his hands were surprisingly gentle.
Smoke was filling the cabin, and the pain in my abdomen was growing stronger.
I wanted to argue.
I wanted to tell him Vincent would return.
Instead, I grabbed his arm.
“Please,” I whispered. “Save my daughter.”
Daniel looked at my stomach.
“Then we're getting both of you out.”
He guided me toward the small service hatch near the rear of the aircraft.
The emergency landing had damaged part of the cabin, leaving the usual exit difficult to reach.
Daniel had been inspecting a mechanical compartment when the landing occurred. He knew the aircraft better than anyone.
Unfortunately, the hatch was narrow.
“I can't fit through there,” I said.
“You can. Turn sideways. I'll help you.”
Another cramp bent me forward.
Daniel caught my shoulders.
“Look at me, Anna. One step at a time.”
Nobody had called me Anna in that voice for months.
Not since my marriage had become a series of business dinners, canceled appointments, and conversations about Sophia Carter.
I forced myself through the opening.
Cold air struck my face.
Daniel climbed after me, helping me descend onto the wet pavement.
Then he took off his navy maintenance jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders.
An ambulance was approaching.
And across the runway, I saw Vincent.
He was standing beside Sophia, who sat on a stretcher with a bandage around her forehead.
Vincent had one hand on her shoulder.
I tried to call him.
My throat wouldn't cooperate.
Daniel noticed where I was looking.
“Don't worry about him. Stay with me.”
But Vincent finally turned.
Our eyes met across the runway.
His expression changed instantly.
“ANNA!”
He started toward us.
I took one step.
Another sharp pain stopped me.
Daniel caught me before I fell.
Vincent reached us seconds later.
“Oh, God. Anna.”
He reached for my face.
I pulled away.
“Don't.”
He froze.
“I was coming back.”
I stared at him.
“You promised.”
“I know.”
“You left me.”
“Anna, Sophia was bleeding. I thought—”
“Our daughter was inside me.”
His face lost its color.
A paramedic hurried over with a stretcher.
“Ma'am, how far along are you?”
“Twenty-nine weeks.”
“Are you having contractions?”
I nodded.
Vincent looked frightened now.
“What's happening?”
The paramedic didn't answer him.
She helped me onto the stretcher.
“Possible premature labor. We need to move.”
Vincent tried to climb into the ambulance.
Daniel stepped between us.
“She needs space.”
“I'm her husband.”
Daniel looked at him steadily.
“Then act like the person she can depend on.”
For the first time, Vincent Moretti had no answer.
At the hospital, the doctors worked quickly.
My blood pressure was unstable.
The baby's heartbeat needed monitoring.
They told me the stress and injuries might have triggered early labor.
Vincent stood beside my bed, still wearing the expensive watch I'd given him on our first anniversary.
A silver watch with an engraving on the back.
Every moment, together.
I couldn't stop looking at it.
He noticed.
“Anna, I'm sorry.”
I turned toward the window.
“Where's Sophia?”
He hesitated.
“She's being examined.”
“Did you make sure she was comfortable?”
“Anna—”
“Did you hold her hand?”
His silence answered me.
I closed my eyes.
Vincent sat down.
“I didn't know the smoke was getting that bad.”
“You heard me calling.”
“I thought I had time.”
“You thought wrong.”
The monitor beside my bed began beeping faster.
A nurse entered.
“Mr. Moretti, I need you to step outside.”
Vincent refused at first.
Then he saw the doctor's expression.
He left.
Hours later, my contractions slowed.
The baby was still inside me.
For the moment, we were safe.
Daniel visited that evening.
He stood awkwardly near the door, holding my handbag.
“I found this in the cabin.”
I smiled weakly.
“Thank you.”
He placed it beside my bed.
Then his expression grew serious.
“Anna, there's something you should know.”
I waited.
Daniel reached into his pocket.
He removed a small brass identification tag attached to a broken red cord.
“I found this near the damaged electrical compartment.”
“What is it?”
“An access tag. Someone opened that compartment before we took off.”
I frowned.
“Maintenance?”
“That's what I thought.”
He looked toward the hospital door.
“But according to the flight log, nobody from my crew was supposed to touch it.”
My skin went cold.
“Then who did?”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“The access number belongs to someone traveling on that plane.”
He turned the tag over.
May you like
Written beneath the number was one name.
SOPHIA CARTER.
