Stranger

Prologue

24 years ago

"Push!" The doctor exclaimed. "Come on, just one more time. You're doing great, sweetheart, I can already see her head."

"No!" Kayla cried, "No! No, I can't, it hurts!" She digs her nails deeper into the skin of Michael's hands, gripping his hands tighter. It ached badly, but he put up with the pain, just so that she could have something to hold on to. "God Mike, no more children, okay?" She pants. He chuckles and wipes her forehead with the cold, damp cloth. "M'kay, love. Just keep pushin', you're almost there."

He rested his forehead on her's and smiled. He had no idea how someone could look so beautiful with the most distorted grimace on their face. But she did. He couldn't stop looking at her, couldn't stop brushing her hair out of her face, so that he could see her better. His beautiful wife. The woman who he was going to raise his soon-to-be two kids with. He couldn't help but smile at the life he was imagining.

Kayla narrowed her eyes and shot him a murderous glare. "I'm lying here in severe pain and you're smiling." She arched an eyebrow.

He grabbed her face and kissed her forehead. "Your pain isn't the reason I'm smiling, dear." He places another soft kiss just below her eye. "I'm smiling, because you just look so beautif-"

"Aughh, shut it Mike! God it hurts," She throws her head back, and she gives one final push.

She lifts her head up with a relieved smile on her face when she hears the cries of her baby girl.

The doctor gives the couple a sweet smile. "A beautiful baby girl. So precious. And healthy. What's her name?"

Kayla smiles. "Nevaeh." She looks up at Michael, "named after your grandmother."

Michael smiles, and his eyes twinkle. "Nevaeh," he repeats the name.

The doctor nods. "I'm going to go clean her up, and then you can hold her."

Michael nods with a wide smile on his face, eager to see his newborn daughter. So eager, that he misses the nod exchanged between the doctor and his wife before the doctor walks out.

Michael walks over to the sink to pour his wife a cup of water. "So," he says with a humorous voice, "you think you want another child after all of that? Imagine if Nevaeh would've came with a twin. Or triplets." He laughs, but stops when he's met with only silence. "Sweetheart?"

He turns around and drops the cup of water, the color draining from his face. He would've thought that she'd fallen asleep, if not for her head being in a horrific position. It looks as if her neck has no bones in it. He sprints to her, almost slipping because of the water. He lifts her head up, but all it does is flops to the other side. He takes a frantic step back, almost knocking over the tray of supplies. "Doc- Doctor! I- I need a doctor! Please!" He runs out of the room as nurses come rushing in.

"Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod, my wife!" He starts pacing outside the room. He starts trembling, and sweating, and shaking, and oh god, I'm going to die! I can't breathe. He thinks. He drops down to his knees, clutching his head, trying to ground himself. A nurse comes up to him and grabs his arm. "Are you alright, sir? Do you need a doctor?" He roughly pulls his arm away from her and glares at her. "Don't touch me."

"Al-Alright." She stammers and walks away. "Dead at 1:48 p.m." He hears coming from the room his wife is in. He snaps his head towards the door, and he shakes his head frantically, tears blurring his vision, as he runs into the room. "N-no, no, no, no!" He spots the doctor that delivered their child. He storms toward him and pins the doctor to the wall. "You said there were no complications! What did you do to my wif-"

The doctor smirks, his whole face contorting from the sweet doctor he thought he knew, to a twisted and sinister expression. Michael is so taken aback, his face flickers from hurt, to a blend of confusion and wrath. "What'd you do to my wife? Tell me, or I'm calling the police."

The man shoves Michael off of him, glaring at him. "Touch me again, and I'm calling the police. You want to play the blame game? Because last I checked, she was fine when I left. All went wrong when you were left in the room. Now tell me Mike, who looks more suspicious?"

Michael inhales sharply, and he shakes his head. He doesn't want to believe it, but the doctor is right. He wants to blame someone, wants to take the anger out on something, but there is no way the doctor could've done it. He has no idea what could've done it. He turns around and watches as they push his wife out of the room, feeling angry. Revengeful. He doesn't know what happened, but the way his wife looked... every time he replays that moment in his head, he knows that this couldn't have been in accident. This doesn't happen to anyone after birth. He's going to figure out what happened. He has to. But right now, he has to focus on the present. "Where's my baby?"

The doctor gestures dramatically for him to follow with a lopsided grin. "Right through here, Mr. Gerard. Please, follow me."