Page 147 of The Golden Hour

They're shaking in their shiny shoes. That's why they're working so hard to stop it.

You are a lioness, Honey. And you make them fucking pay for hurting your cub.

“My placenta detached,” Honey says.

Everyone in the room goes very still.

She uses the exact words Mason gave her after she had asked him what happened when a placenta detached. The clinical terms, not the softened version Dr. Farah gave her, meant to soothe her and keep her from panicking.

She needed to know how close the end came.

And Mason, thankfully, told her.

Minutes.

Such a short amount of time, and yet also a lifetime in those seconds.

Mason’s hand shakes, but he does not react outwardly. He keeps a stony mask on his face, but his eyes stay soft on Honey.

“The organ that was keeping my daughter alive started tearing away from the wall of my uterus,” Honey says. “My body was filling with blood where blood was not supposed to be, and my daughter was losing oxygen.”

Mason nods encouragingly. Agnes rests her chin on her hand, her expression unreadable, but her dark eyes are intrigued.

“You know how, in TV shows, a woman’s water breaks and it’s funny?” Honey asks, letting out an empty laugh. “This wasn’t that. Blood was rushing down my legs. I collapsed to the ground, which also could have harmed my daughter if my mother hadn’t put her own body between mine and the floor.”

Honey smiles.

“That’s what mothers are supposed to do,” she says. “Protect our children. This is how I’m protecting mine.”

The corner of Agnes’ mouth raises, and her chin dips in a small nod.

“They had to cut her out of me,” Honey says. “Because if they did not get her out fast enough, she would die. And if they did not stop the bleeding fast enough, I would die.”

The tension in the room thickens to near suffocation, but Honey doesn’t feel it. All she feels is adrenaline and pride rushing through her.

“They took my baby out of my body while people worked to keep me alive,” Honey says, and her voice cracks then. “I woke up, and my stomach was empty. My baby was no longer inside. I did not hear her first cry. I did not see her first breath. I did not even know if she was alive.”

She lets out a shaky breath, and she can see the lawyers shifting in their seats uncomfortably in front of her.

Funny, for people who argue to defend the hospital, they are very quiet right now. Maybe because what Dr. Mortimer did is truly indefensible. Maybe because what St. Mary’s allowed is truly indefensible.

But if they had shown one ounce of true regret, maybe it would feel different. If they had tried to make things right as a system, not just relying on individuals like Dr. Farah, Ellen, or Heather to offer kindness and care, maybe it would feel different.

They didn’t.

They just wanted to buy Mason’s support and paint Honey as crazy.

Honey thinks of Mason beside her. How he neglected her for the entirety of her pregnancy. How he was absent, and then, when he was there, short and clipped and careless.

She knows she would be well within her rights not to forgive him.

Ever.

But Mason showed true, genuine remorse for his actions and inactions. More than that, more than saying sorry, he showed her change. He chose her, and he has been choosing her ever since.

Over his career, over stability, over an eager and beautiful woman, over whatever the hospital rush fed him.

Mason chose her. Mason defended her. Mason respected her and her wishes.