The gentle hum of the record player was shattered by the sound of glass splintering against the hardwood floor. "Maureen?" Ethan called out, setting down his tablet as he rushed toward the lounge. Maureen stood near the floor-to-ceiling window, her hand pressed tightly against her stomach. Her face had drained of all color, paper-white and slick with a sudden cold sweat. Beneath the hem of her silk loungewear, a dark red stain was blooming rapidly, pooling onto the rug. "Ethan..." Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling with sudden terror. "Something’s... wrong." Ethan’s eyes widened in horror. Without hesitation, he scooped his sister into his arms, ignoring the blood soaking into his own shirt. "Hold on! Just hold on, Maureen!" He sprinted out to the private garage, laying her gently across the back seat of his SUV before driving toward the city's private medical center. As the tires screeched out of the driveway into the pouring rain, Ethan dialed his father with a shaking
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