Isabelle’s heart leapt with a mixture of relief and apprehension as she recognized the man who had just entered the room. It was her husband, James Laurent, a well-respected attorney known for his unwavering dedication to justice and his family. His presence felt like a lifeline thrown in turbulent waters.

James quickly assessed the situation. Isabelle, visibly distressed, was clutching her belly, her face a canvas of pain and fear. The officers, caught in an awkward position, seemed unsure of how to proceed now that he was here.

And Nurse Brenda, who had been so dismissive just moments ago, stood with a haughty expression that faltered upon meeting James’s steely gaze. “Yes, I am her husband,” James confirmed, stepping forward to stand by Isabelle’s side. He gently wrapped an arm around her, lending her his strength.

“And I would like to know why my pregnant wife, who is experiencing severe abdominal pain, is being treated with such disregard and hostility.”

Brenda’s bravado seemed to wilt under his scrutiny. “Sir, she didn’t have an appointment,” she protested weakly, but her voice lacked the earlier venom. James’s expression hardened.

“Emergency situations often don’t come with the luxury of appointments. Dr. Monroe instructed her to come in urgently.

Is it standard procedure here to ignore a doctor’s directive and threaten a patient in distress?”

The officers exchanged glances, clearly reevaluating the situation. One of them, a younger officer with a sympathetic look, addressed Brenda. “Ma’am, perhaps it would be best to check with Dr.

Monroe, given the circumstances.”

Brenda hesitated, her authority slipping away like sand through fingers. With no other option, she picked up the phone with a huff, muttering into the receiver. After a brief conversation, her face blanched.

She hung up the phone and looked at Isabelle, the defiance in her eyes replaced with something akin to fear. “Dr. Monroe says to take you in immediately,” Brenda admitted begrudgingly.

Her tone had lost its earlier edge, replaced by a forced politeness. “Right this way, please.”

Isabelle, feeling a surge of renewed hope and relief, allowed herself to be led away, James’s hand never leaving hers. As they walked, she glimpsed the officers, who offered her nods of encouragement.