Chapter 2 - The White Room of Survival and Awakening
I woke up exactly two agonizing days later in a completely sterile, highly bright, and incredibly quiet white hospital room surrounded by highly complex medical monitoring machines.
The incredibly loud, highly rhythmic beeping of the advanced heart monitor was the absolutely only sound entirely breaking the incredibly heavy, deeply suffocating silence of the intensive care unit.
My completely frozen, highly damaged hands were entirely wrapped in thick, highly sterile white bandages to effectively treat the incredibly severe, highly painful frostbite that had aggressively attacked my fingers.
A deeply compassionate, incredibly highly skilled pediatric nurse gently walked into the quiet room, carefully carrying my beautiful, entirely healthy baby girl directly into my waiting, highly eager arms.
Sophie was completely, wonderfully, and entirely miraculously unharmed by the incredibly traumatic, highly dangerous freezing ordeal that had nearly ended both of our completely innocent lives.
As I sat incredibly quietly in that highly sterile, completely isolated hospital bed, I finally had the necessary, completely uninterrupted time to fully process the absolute, entirely horrific reality of my deeply broken marriage.
While I had been actively fighting a massive, highly desperate battle for my absolute physical survival, my incredibly ruthless, entirely abusive husband had been highly, incredibly busy executing his completely sinister master plan.
I slowly turned on the small, incredibly grainy hospital television mounted securely on the white wall, only to completely, entirely accidentally witness the deeply horrifying, completely devastating local news coverage.
Ethan had incredibly aggressively, highly publicly filed for an immediate, completely entirely emergency divorce, actively telling all of our mutual friends and corporate colleagues an incredibly massive, entirely fabricated lie.
He claimed with a completely straight, highly convincing face that I had suffered a massive, completely devastating postpartum psychotic breakdown and entirely abandoned him and our baby in the middle of the dark night.
He had instantly, completely ruthlessly emptied every single one of our massive joint bank accounts, entirely stealing all of the highly substantial, completely hard-earned liquid cash we had saved together.
He truly, entirely believed that I had absolutely no remaining family, completely zero hidden money, and absolutely no internal, highly fierce mental strength left to actively fight back against his massive power.
But he completely, entirely, and absolutely fatally forgot exactly who he had married in the first place, entirely underestimating the incredibly massive, highly dangerous intellect I possessed.
I did not cry a single, solitary tear of pathetic weakness, nor did I entirely surrender to the incredibly heavy, highly suffocating grief that desperately tried to aggressively consume my broken soul.
Instead, I calmly asked the highly sympathetic hospital nurse to completely, entirely secretly lend me her personal cellular phone for a highly brief, entirely critical period of completely unmonitored time.
I lay incredibly completely still in that highly uncomfortable, completely sterile hospital bed and aggressively, highly methodically made exactly three incredibly quiet, highly completely devastating phone calls.
The very first, completely crucial phone call was directly to my highly aggressive, entirely ruthless personal lawyer, a man who completely despised highly abusive, entirely arrogant men like Ethan.
The second, incredibly highly strategic phone call was directed specifically to my late father’s former trusted corporate business partner, a highly influential, completely incredibly wealthy investment banker.
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And the third, absolutely entirely critical phone call was to the highly secretive, completely incredibly efficient private investigator I had actively hired many long, highly suspicious months earlier.
I had initially hired the incredibly sharp investigator the exact, completely horrifying week that Sabrina, Ethan's highly ambitious, completely entirely ruthless secretary, started carelessly leaving her red lipstick on his coffee cups.
