Moments after welcoming my newborn into the world, my 8-year-old daughter arrived at my bedside. With a swift motion, she pulled the curtain shut and murmured…

Deborah herself had felt something unnatural about Rachel’s behavior, the overly strong effect of the medicine, knowing Lily’s name, and this morning’s suspicious antibiotic. Suddenly, voices could be heard from the hallway. Lily quickly stood up and listened toward the window.

Then, with a determined expression, she quietly began to draw the curtains in the hospital room. Lily, what are you doing? Without turning around, Lily said, Mom, she’s coming. After closing the curtains, Lily rushed to her mother’s bed and, with a small but serious expression, said, Mom, get under the bed right now.

Deborah sensed her daughter’s urgency and fear. Lily’s eyes held a wisdom and determination beyond her years. Deborah acted without hesitation.

She gently picked up Thomas and dragging the four stand with her, stood beside the bed. Lily, you come too. She first knelt on the floor and, still holding the baby, carefully slid under the bed.

Her postpartum body still felt pain, but she ignored it. Lily quickly crawled in beside her mother. As the two held their breath under the bed, they heard the hospital room door open.

Quiet footsteps approached. Deborah gently rocked Thomas to prevent him from crying while holding her breath. Lily clung to her mother’s arm, trembling with fear.

The footsteps stopped near the bed. There was a sound of someone touching the pillow on the bed. Where did she go? A woman’s voice muttered.

It was Rachel. Deborah’s heart pounded violently. She suddenly felt Lily’s small hand cover her mouth.

Lily was warning her mother to stay quiet. Smart girl. Deborah nodded slightly and gently squeezed Lily’s hand.

Rachel seemed to have pressed the nurse call button. The patient is missing, they heard her say. Just then, another set of footsteps entered the room.

Heavier ones, belonging to a man. What are you doing? Where’s Deborah? It was Michael’s voice. Rachel’s voice came back, low and dangerously resonant.

Your obstacle will soon be gone. With just one injection. What are you talking about? Michael’s voice was disturbed.

We planned this, Michael. You and me, and the baby. We don’t need your wife.

Rachel’s voice had a tinge of madness. The baby will be ours. Deborah was frozen with terror.

In her arms, Thomas began to stir. Deborah kissed the baby even more gently, praying he would stay quiet. Lily’s face was pale, her eyes filled with fear, but she bravely remained still, trying to protect her mother and brother.

From under the bed, Deborah could see Rachel’s white nursing shoes and Michael’s leather shoes. They were standing face to face. Michael’s feet stepped backward.

What are you saying? I only said I wanted to break up. I don’t intend to hurt anyone. A ray of light shone in Deborah’s heart.

While Michael had certainly been having an affair with Rachel, he didn’t seem to be participating in this crazed plan. However, that hardly changed the current situation. Rachel had a syringe with a lethal dose of drugs, and she was looking for Deborah.

You promised. You said we would be together, Rachel’s voice trembled with anger. Deborah looked at Lily’s face.

Along with fear, there was determination in her daughter’s eyes. Lily gently pointed to her mother’s arm, showing the watch-like nurse call button attached to it. Deborah understood and nodded slightly.

It was a race against time. From their limited view under the bed, they could see Rachel’s and Michael’s feet still facing each other. You promised me a future together…