My mother threw a heavy suitcase at my pregnant wife in the hospital. She never knew a nurse saw it all.

I was back at the hospital an hour later, the notes tucked in my bag, my jaw still tight with anger.

Lila was propped up in bed, watching a show on her phone, but she turned it off the second I walked in, her eyes searching my face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, reaching for my hand.

I sat on the edge of the bed and told her everything. The pills. The notes. The way my mom had planned it all.

She went pale, her hand flying to her stomach. “She was going to make it look like I lost the baby?” she whispered.

I nodded, pulling her close, careful of her belly. “She’s never going to get near you again. I promise. I’m pressing charges. Full assault. Attempted harm to a child. Whatever it takes.”

Lila nodded, but her eyes were scared. “What if she gets out? What if she comes back?”

Before I could answer, we heard yelling from the hallway.

My mom’s voice.

“I’m his mother! I have a right to see my son! That woman is keeping him from me!”

Lila flinched, her whole body tensing, the monitors above her bed beeping faster again.

I stood up, moving to block the door, my hands clenched. “Stay here,” I said to Lila. “Don’t move.”

I stepped into the hallway. My mom was there, fighting against two security guards, her hair wild, her face red. My dad was right behind her, his head down, looking ashamed.

“Let me go!” she screamed, spotting me. “You tell them, baby! Tell them I can see you! That gold-digging bitch is brainwashing you!”

“Get her out of here,” I said to the guards, my voice cold. “She’s trespassing. And she’s violating a no-contact order the police gave her.”

My mom’s eyes widened. “No-contact order? You got a no-contact order against your own mother?”

“You tried to kill my wife and baby,” I said, loud enough for the whole hallway to hear. “What did you expect?”

She lunged at me then, but the guards held her back, dragging her toward the elevator. She yelled the whole way, calling me ungrateful, calling Lila every name she could think of.

My dad stayed behind, his hands in his pockets, his face lined with exhaustion.

“I tried to stop her,” he said, quiet. “She snuck out of the house while I was in the shower. I followed her here as fast as I could.”

“Did you know she was going to do this?” I asked, my voice sharp.

He looked up, his eyes wet. “No. I swear to God, no. I knew she was angry, but I never thought she’d… I never thought she’d hurt anyone.”

I stared at him for a long time. I wanted to hate him. For not seeing it. For not stopping her. But I saw the pain in his eyes, the same confusion I felt.

“Go home, Dad,” I said, tired. “We’ll talk later. When she’s not around.”

He nodded, turning to leave, but he stopped halfway down the hall.