The sterile quiet of the hospital shattered with one sentence — a sentence that changed everything.
“Your baby has Down syndrome,” Dr. Reynolds said, her voice trembling under the weight of her own words.
Luna froze. The air felt thinner, the world smaller. Her trembling hands clutched the edges of the hospital bed as if it were the only thing keeping her from collapsing. But before the silence could consume her, the door burst open — Bill Spencer stormed in, his face pale with fear and fury.
“What happened?” he demanded, his voice sharp, commanding, desperate.
When the doctor repeated the diagnosis, time seemed to stop. Bill’s jaw tightened, his eyes flaring with a mixture of rage and protectiveness. “No one — no one — is going to hurt my family,” he vowed. But this time, it wasn’t just a promise. It was a declaration of war — against fate, against prejudice, against anyone who dared to pity them.
As Luna broke down, her sobs echoing through the sterile walls, Bill pulled her into his arms. “I want to fight for this baby,” she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. Bill cupped her face, eyes blazing. “Then we fight,” he said. “And we never back down.”
But as the scene faded into fragile calm, the heart monitor beeped — slow… then faster. Dr. Reynolds frowned, rushing to Luna’s side. Panic rippled through the room. “Her blood pressure’s dropping!” the doctor shouted. Nurses swarmed in, alarms blaring. Bill, helpless, could only whisper, “Hold on, Luna… hold on.”
Moments later, as Luna stabilized, she opened her eyes and whispered something that froze Bill’s blood:
“Someone did this. Someone wanted me to lose this baby.”
Bill’s expression hardened. The protective father turned predator. In that instant, love transformed into vengeance. He knew there were enemies — people who would do anything to destroy him. But now, they’d made it personal.
Outside the hospital, a black SUV idled under the rain. Inside, a shadowy figure watched from the driver’s seat, a phone pressed to their ear. “It’s done,” the voice said coldly. “But the baby survived.”
The camera pans back to the hospital window — Bill holding Luna’s hand, their baby’s ultrasound still glowing on the monitor. The war had just begun.
