Chapter 2: The Golden Hour
The flashing red and blue lights of three emergency vehicles reflected wildly against the modern facades of the El Refugio neighborhood. Within twenty minutes of Daniel’s frantic calls from Singapore, an elite medical team and local police units had breached the front gates of the villa.
Paramedic Javier Gomez sprinted through the front door, his medical kit banging against his hip. The house was eerie, smelling faintly of expensive perfume and metallic copper. When he reached the kitchen, his breath caught.
"We have a female, approximately thirty-two weeks pregnant, unresponsive, severe abdominal trauma, heavy hemorrhaging!" Javier shouted into his radio as he dropped to his knees beside Regina.
His partner, Elena, immediately began setting up an IV line. "Her pulse is thready, tachycardic at 130. Blood pressure is plummeting. Javier, we are in the golden hour. If we don't get her to the operating room in ten minutes, we lose her and the babies."
As they lifted Regina onto the gurney, a young police detective named Alberto Reyes began surveying the scene. His eyes, trained by years of criminal investigation, immediately picked up the anomalies. The broken cell phone kicked under the sink. The pool of blood on the kitchen floor that didn't match a simple slip-and-fall trajectory. And most importantly, the faint, microscopic green light of the hidden cloud camera nestled above the cabinetry.
Detective Reyes walked over, pulled out a sterile glove, and carefully extracted the broken phone. He looked up at the camera. "Secure this room," he ordered his officers. "This wasn't an accident. This was an execution attempt."
Meanwhile, the ambulance tore through the streets of Querétaro, its sirens wailing against the afternoon traffic. Inside, Elena was frantically monitoring the fetal heart tones with a portable ultrasound probe. The rhythmic thump-thump-thump of the twins' heartbeats was dangerously slow, decelerating with every passing minute.
"Come on, Regina, fight," Elena muttered, adjusting the oxygen mask over Regina’s face. "Your babies need you."
At the Star Médica Hospital, a team of top obstetricians and trauma surgeons was already waiting at the ambulance bay. Regina was wheeled directly into Operating Room 4.
Dr. Sylvia Mendez, the lead OB-GYN, took one look at the ultrasound monitor and yelled, "Abruptio placentae! The placenta has detached from the uterine wall due to external blunt force trauma. We are doing an emergency crash C-section right now. General anesthesia, prepare for massive blood transfusion!"
The operating room became a blur of silver instruments, shouting medical staff, and the tense, heavy atmosphere of a battle against death. Dr. Mendez worked with surgical precision, her hands moving with lightning speed to slice through the abdominal walls to reach the uterus.
"First infant out," Dr. Mendez announced at exactly 4:12 PM.
It was a boy. He was pale, limp, and silent. The neonatal resuscitation team immediately grabbed him, clearing his airway and starting positive pressure ventilation. For thirty agonizing seconds, the only sound in the room was the mechanical hum of the ventilators. Then, a tiny, raspy cry broke the silence.
"We have a heartbeat, APGAR score is 5, moving him to the incubator!" the neonatologist called out.
"Second infant out," Dr. Mendez said a minute later. A girl. She, too, was dangerously weak, her tiny body bruised from the pressure of the trauma. She didn't cry. She was immediately intubated and rushed to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) alongside her brother.
But the battle was far from over.
"Doctor! Regina’s uterine artery is torn, she’s going into DIC (disseminated intravascular coagulation)!" the anesthesiologist warned, the monitors beep-beeping in a frantic, high-pitched panic. "Her blood isn't clotting. We’re losing her!"
"More blood products! Warm blankets! Don't let her pressure drop any lower!" Dr. Mendez commanded, her scrubs already soaked in blood. "Regina, stay with us. Your children are alive. You have to live for them."
While Regina hovered between life and death in the operating theater, an international flight was cruising over the Pacific Ocean at 35,000 feet. Daniel sat in the business class cabin, staring blankly at the seatback screen. He had purchased the aircraft’s high-speed Wi-Fi, using it to maintain a direct line of communication with Detective Reyes in Querétaro.
His laptop was open on his tray table, displaying the downloaded cloud footage from his kitchen. He had watched it fifty times. Each time, his grief turned deeper, colder, and more absolute. He saw the sister he had financially supported for years kick his wife’s phone. He heard the mother who raised him call his unborn children bargaining chips.
May you like
A text message popped up on his screen from Detective Reyes: Mr. Daniel, your wife is out of surgery. She is in a medically induced coma in the ICU. The twins have been delivered prematurely and are in the NICU. They are stable but critical. We have issued an APB (All Points Bulletin) for Carmen and Veronica. However, they have gone into hiding. We believe they are attempting to execute the fraudulent bank transfers as we speak.
Daniel gripped his laptop screen, his eyes burning with tears of rage and sorrow. Hold on, my love, he thought, looking out into the empty blue sky. I am coming. And when I land, they will pay for every drop of blood they took from you.
