Her hate

After staring at them silently for a moment, Rose’s lips parted, a soft, broken sound escaping her, something between a whimper and a gasp.

Duke stepped forward carefully, hands raised slightly, as though approaching a wild animal.

“Rosie…” he said, voice trembling just enough. A performance. Everything about him was always a performance.

Rose blinked at him slowly. Something unfocused and shattered floated behind her gaze.

Then her lips stretched. Upward.

A smile.

Not a real one.

A fractured one. Like her face had forgotten how to shape the expression.

“Oh… Duke,” she whispered, and her voice was soft. Too soft. Like snow just before the avalanche. “You came.”

Lisa shifted beside him, her jaw tightening. The faintest glimmer of discomfort... yes, Rose saw it. Even broken as she was, she saw everything.

Rose tilted her head slightly, looking at them as though deciding whether they were real or ghosts.

“But you’re late.”

A small laugh fluttered from her lips, high, breathless.

“So late. So terribly late.”

Duke swallowed and took another step. The EMTs lingered behind him in the hall, uncertain, uneasy, eyes flicking between Rose and her son in her arms.

“Rose,” Duke said softly, reaching a hand toward her. “Put Eli down. Let the doctors-"

“NO!"

The scream ripped out of her so violently her whole body jerked. Eli’s blanket shifted; Rose immediately cradled him tighter, shielding him from the air, from the world, from them.

“You don’t touch him. You don’t look at him.” Her voice was ragged, string-thin but sharp enough to cut.

Lisa’s expression didn’t change, but her eyes flicked to the doctor behind her... A signal.

Rose saw it.

Of course she did.

Her laugh burst again, louder, wild this time.

“What is it now, dear cousin... What is it that you have enstore for me... Isn't this painful enough...” she said. 

Her voice scraped the air raw.

Lisa took one careful breath. “Rosie-”

“DON’T SAY MY NAME!”

The roar was feral. Lisa actually flinched.

“You don’t get to say my name,” Rose hissed, her voice dropping into something low and trembling with hatred. “Not after all this. Not after what you did with him.”

Lisa’s expression froze. Like porcelain. Cracked, but refusing to shatter.

Duke tried again. “Rose, please-”

She began to rock Eli tenderly in her arms. Her voice softened to a lullaby tone.

“Shhh, baby, don’t listen to them. Mama’s here. Mama’s right here. They can’t take you. They won’t take you. I won’t let them.”

Her fingers threaded into Eli’s hair.

Her grief was a tidal wave choking itself into cooing whispers.

Duke’s façade, his performance, faltered for a fraction of a second, guilt flickered across his features, so small no one could have noticed.

But Rose saw it.

Oh, she saw everything.

Her eyes snapped back to him.

“You did this.”

The words dropped like iron.

Duke froze. “Rosie, I would never-”

“You!” she screamed, the sound so sharp the EMTs winced. “You-you-you let them do this!!! You let them-” 

Lisa pressed forward. “She’s hallucinating. This is shocking. Doctor Han, we need to remove the child from her and get her sedated-”

Rose’s head snapped toward her cousin so fast it seemed her neck might snap.

Her smile returned.

Slow.

Wrong.

“Lisa,” she breathed. “Come closer.”

Lisa stilled.

Rose leaned forward slightly, Eli’s limp body balanced against her shoulder. She whispered in an almost sweet tone:

“I hope if you ever have a child with this fool here, your child is born without breath.”

The room went dead silent.

Even the clock seemed to hesitate.

Lisa’s face went white.

It was the kind of curse that didn’t sound like anger, but like truth spoken from a place where sanity had drowned.

Duke, panicking now, stepped forward again. “Rose, stop!!”

“DON’T COME NEAR ME!”

Rose’s hand shot to the nightstand. She grabbed the first thing her fingers found, a phone, and hurled it with all the force of someone whose world had ended.

It hit Duke square in the bridge of the nose.

The crack was loud.

Blood spurted instantly.

Duke stumbled back with a choked sound, grabbing his face.

The EMTs surged forward in alarm.

Lisa gasped, one hand flying to her mouth, not in horror, but to stifle a laugh of disbelief. 'This was better than I could have planned.'

Doctor Han, already trembling from guilt and fear, found his opening. His salvation. His justification.

“She’s violent,” he said sharply, stepping forward. “She’s a danger to herself and others. Restrain her, now.”

“No- NO! DON’T TOUCH ME!” Rose cried as hands closed around her arms. She twisted, clutching Eli tighter, screaming like an animal dragged to slaughter.

“LET ME HOLD HIM! HE’S MY BABY-DON’T TAKE HIM-DON’T TOUCH MY SON-DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

Her knees hit the floor hard. Her hair came loose. Her screams tore the room in half.

But Duke-

Oh, Duke played his role beautifully.

Hand still soaked, blood staining his wedding ring, he stepped forward with a trembling chin, voice cracking on purpose.

“Please… help her,” he said, voice thick with the perfect imitation of heartbreak. “She’s suffering. She’s not well. Just-please-take care of her. Don’t let her hurt herself.”

The EMTs swallowed it whole.

Of course they did.

He was the grieving husband.

She was the hysterical mother.

And her screams-her raw, pleading, soul-ripped screams-only proved them right.

“No-NO! DUKE-PLEASE! Please don’t do this!” Rose sobbed, thrashing so hard the straps cut into her wrists. “HE’S ALL I HAVE! LET ME HOLD HIM-PLEASE! Let me hold my baby!!! YOU CAN’T TAKE HIM-DON'T TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ME!”

Her voice broke, split open, shredded. She was choking on her own tears now, snot and saliva and desperation smearing her face.

But they didn’t stop.

They pried Eli from her arms.

Her body let out a sound that didn’t belong to any living creature.

It was grief given sound.

It was a mother’s soul separating from her body.

It was the moment a heart died.

“NOOOOOOOO!”

She lunged again, but the straps held her fast. Her wrists bled. Her voice cracked.

“GIVE HIM BACK! PLEASE! PLEASE! I’LL DO ANYTHING! JUST LET ME HOLD HIM... PLEASE... PLEASE... DO N’T-DON’T-DON’T...”

But Duke’s hand was on her shoulder now, soft, gentle, intimate.

“Rest, Rosie,” he whispered.

She stared up at him.

And he saw it.

The moment something broke in her.

Forever.

The EMT injected the sedative.

Her body slowed.

Her voice faded.

But her eyes-

Her eyes stayed open, locked on Duke’s, burning.

Remember this.

They said.

I will remember everything.

Darkness seeped into her vision.

Her son was gone.

Her voice was gone.

Her freedom was gone.

But her hatred-

Her hatred had just been born.