Chapter 14 - The Highway Run
The interior of the delivery van smelled of corrugated cardboard, warm vinyl, and diesel exhaust. Clara sat collapsed on the passenger seat, rocking the infant against her chest with both hands as the driver accelerated down the two-lane coastal highway, completely ignoring the posted speed limits.
""Name's Marcus,"" the driver said, his eyes flicking constantly to the rearview mirror. ""Hospital is eight miles north. I already hit the emergency call button on the fleet dispatch. County EMS is intercepting us at the crossroads.""
""Thank you,"" Clara whispered. Her hands were still trembling, but the color was returning to her lips. She looked down at the tiny face nestled against her skin. The baby had stopped crying, lulled by the vibration of the truck's diesel engine.
In the passenger door pocket sat Marcus's personal smartphone, connected to a dashboard charger. Clara reached for it with numb fingers.
""Can I use this?"" she asked.
""Do whatever you need to do, ma'am,"" Marcus replied, keeping his hands clamped firmly on the steering wheel.
Clara did not call the police; she knew that Eleanor’s family had three former county commissioners on their payroll, and any initial local report would be delayed, buried, or sanitized before it reached an investigator. Instead, she dialed a direct ten-digit number that she had memorized six years ago—the private line of the chief legal counsel for the Vance family's primary holding corporation, the man who oversaw the strict lineage-trust disbursement clauses.
The phone rang four times before an older, gravelly voice answered. ""Arthur Campbell.""
""Arthur,"" Clara said, her voice dropping into a flat, deadly calm that surprised even herself. ""This is Clara Vance. I am in the back of a delivery van three miles from the regional trauma center. I have just given birth to Ethan’s firstborn daughter.""
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There was an immediate, sharp intake of air on the other end of the line. ""Clara? Ethan reported you were resting comfortably under private medical care while he attended a corporate retreat in Mexico.""
""Ethan padlocked the front entrance, cut the life-support vents, and left me to die on the foyer floor,"" Clara said, her words landing like iron spikes. ""And I have the security guard's voice recorded on the smart-home auxiliary logs that are backed up to the cloud.""
