Chapter 3 - The Breached Threshold
The top hinge popped with a sickening metallic snap. Splinters of painted pine rained onto the bathmat as Daniel drove the crowbar deeper into the jamb. He had traded the screwdriver for the heavy pry bar he kept in the garage.
Another contraction tore through my body, forcing an involuntary, guttural cry from my throat. I couldn't hold it back anymore. The sheer physiological force of my body trying to deliver my daughter doubled me over onto the tiled floor. My swollen, sprained ankle dragged against the tub, sending blinding streaks of white-hot pain shooting up to my hip.
“Look at her,” Patricia sneered, her face appearing in the widening crack between the door and the frame. Her thin lips curled in disgust as she peered down at me. “She’s being dramatic. Just grab her hand and press her thumb to the notary ink, Daniel. She doesn't even need to hold the pen.”
“Get away from me!” I screamed, clutching the phone against my chest with one hand while grabbing a heavy glass soap dispenser with the other.
“You brought this on yourself!” Daniel bellowed, throwing his entire two-hundred-pound weight against the ruined door.
The frame shattered. The door flew inward, bouncing off the wall and gouging the drywall. Daniel stood in the doorway, chest heaving, his face mottled red with a terrifying, unhinged fury. Behind him, Patricia held a manila folder and a blue ink pad, her eyes cold and calculating like a reptile watching prey in a trap.
“Hang up the phone,” Daniel commanded, stepping forward.
“Step back, Daniel!” I held the glass dispenser up, my arm trembling under the weight of exhaustion and labor. “The police are already on their way! The hospital called them!”
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Patricia laughed, a high, brittle sound. “In this county? Sheriff’s department takes twenty minutes to find a mailbox out here on the ridge. By the time anyone knocks, you’ll have signed the voluntary relinquishment, and we’ll tell them you had an accidental fall. Who do you think they’ll believe? A hysterical, hormonal woman, or my son, the city planner?”
Daniel lunged.
