My maiden name.
The sound of it struck me harder than I expected.
“No,” I said. “My name is Holloway.”
Marlene lowered her eyes to the folder.
“According to the documents filed by Mr. Grant Holloway’s attorney, an emergency dissolution of marriage was initiated and entered into hospital records two days ago.”
For several seconds, the words made no sense.
They floated in the air, disconnected from reality.
Emergency dissolution.
Attorney.
Hospital records.
“No,” I said again, because it was the only word my mind could find. “That’s not possible. I was unconscious.”
Marlene’s face tightened.
“The filing appears to have been based on a previously signed marital agreement.”
“I didn’t sign divorce papers.”
“No one is suggesting that you signed them here,” Dr. Patel said quickly. “But there were documents Grant’s attorney presented.”
Grant.
Not my husband.
Grant.
The room tilted.
“He divorced me while I was unconscious?”
No one answered immediately.
That was answer enough.
I turned my face toward the window. Outside, late afternoon sunlight reflected off another hospital wing. Somewhere in this building, three tiny lives were beginning without me.
“Where is he?” I asked.
Marlene folded her hands over the folder. “Mr. Holloway has not been present since the day of your surgery.”
“And my babies?”
“The babies remain in neonatal care,” she said. “But because of the sudden change in family status, their guardianship review was flagged.”
“Guardianship?” My voice rose, thin and hoarse. “They are my children.”
“Of course they are,” Dr. Patel said. “No one is questioning that medically or biologically.”
“Then why are we talking about guardianship?”
Marlene swallowed. “Because Mr. Holloway’s office contacted the hospital’s legal department and requested all decisions regarding the infants be routed through his counsel until custody matters are clarified.”
I stared at her.
“He left,” I said. “He walked out. He didn’t even ask if I was alive, did he?”
The silence that followed was quiet but complete.
Something inside me cracked, but it did not break apart the way I expected. It did not turn into screaming or tears. It became stillness.
A deep, icy stillness.
“Take me to them,” I said.
Dr. Patel leaned closer. “You’re not strong enough to walk.”
“Then put me in a wheelchair.”
“Evelyn—”
“I almost died bringing them into the world,” I said. “I am going to see my children.”
