Broken

Chapter 47: Guilty?

"Let's take her in the police van!" the officer barked, scooping Fatima into his arms. He carried her outside, calling for help as Lana followed closely behind, her hands trembling with fear.

Zac, who had been leaning against his car, saw the commotion and rushed toward them. "What's going on? Why is she bleeding?" he asked, panic rising in his voice as he watched them load Fatima into the van.

"No questions now," the officer said, his tone urgent. "We have to get her to the hospital!"

Zac nodded quickly, climbing into the back of the van beside Fatima, his hands shaking as he touched her face. "Fatima, baby, stay with me," he whispered, his voice breaking.

Lana, her face pale with worry, asked, "May I come in?"

The officer nodded and opened the door, letting her in before tapping the van to signal the driver. The van took off, speeding through the streets as they rushed to the hospital, the weight of what had just unfolded crashing down on them all.
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The police van screeched to a halt in front of the hospital, and Zac jumped out before the doors had even fully opened. His heart was pounding in his chest, fear and guilt twisting in his gut. The medical team rushed to the van, immediately moving Fatima onto a stretcher as Zac and Lana followed closely behind, their panic palpable.

"Move, move, we've got a patient in critical condition!" one of the paramedics shouted as they wheeled Fatima into the emergency room.

Zac clutched his head, barely able to process what was happening. He turned to Lana, his voice filled with desperation. "What happened? How did this even happen?"

Lana, her face pale and eyes wide with concern, tried to keep calm. "I think... I think she had a panic attack," she said softly, her voice trembling. "She was overwhelmed, Mr. Zac."

Zac groaned, his heart sinking deeper into his chest. "This is all my fault," he muttered, his voice breaking. "I shouldn't have yelled at her! I should've let her explain!" He sighed, his guilt creeping in alongside the panic that had taken over him since the courtroom.

The doors to the emergency room swung open, and Fatima disappeared inside with the medical team. Zac, unable to bear the distance between them, paced back and forth near the entrance. He stopped a nurse passing by and bombarded her with questions. "Will she be alright?" he asked, his voice shaky and desperate. "And the baby? Is the baby okay?" The words came tumbling out of his mouth, barely giving him time to catch his breath.

The nurse, clearly used to worried family members, placed a hand on his arm. "Sir, please calm down," she said gently. "We'll do everything we can. The doctors are attending to her right now."

Zac opened his mouth to say something else, but the nurse was already moving on to assist with another patient. He ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the roots, his body trembling with worry.

Lana, standing a few feet behind him, clasped her hands tightly and closed her eyes. She began whispering a low prayer under her breath, her lips barely moving as she asked for Fatima's safety. "Please, God, let her and the baby be alright. Please."

Zac turned to see her praying, the image jolting him. He let out a heavy breath, leaning back against the cold wall, feeling utterly helpless. Every second that ticked by felt like a lifetime.

"I shouldn't have let her handle all this alone," he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. "She was carrying so much—more than I even knew." His voice cracked as he thought about Fatima's secret—the child she'd given up, the burden she had carried for so long. He felt like an idiot for not seeing how much pain she must have been in.