Nathan
I murmur a prayer as the anaesthetist checks Amari. The alarms are going louder and louder. It is clear that something is wrong. 
“Everything is fine, I don’t know why she has a tachycardia,” she tells the gynaecologist after checking the machine and listening to her chest. 
“She is not bleeding, we are almost done closing.”
I am not clued up with this stuff, but that sound good. Why are the machines still beeping then?
“Eh…” the anaesthetist hesitates and looks nervously at me. 
“Mr Lord, please wait outside,” the gynaecologist says, but I am not going anywhere. 
I shake my head. “Fix whatever it is, I am not leaving my wife.”
They exchange uncomfortable looks before the anaesthetist blurts out. 
“The catheter is empty.”
“Shit! We have to open her up.”
I look at the gynaecologist, who is cutting off the sutures. 
“Why?”
He hesitates.
“I might have caught her ureters when suturing her womb. It is a common complication of a caesarean section.”
I don’t know if he is telling the truth or not, but that is not my priority right now.
“Can you fix it?”
He nods. 
“Okay. Do that.”
He nods again, but the atmosphere her is now tense. They are not comfortable with me being here. 
“By the way, I own this hospital. It’s not like I can sue myself. Just tell me the truth if something went wrong.”
“You can fire us, but noted, Sir,” the anaesthetist says while the scrub nurse giggles. 
“Not when you are doing your job.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“We have urine,” the anaesthetist reports and the alarms are soon silent. 
I look at them smile at this. I wonder how they do this every day. 
“Closing up again. We should be done in the next five minutes. Please let the ICU know.”
I watch the anaesthetist call. They are all comfortable and even making jokes. I guess this is all well. 
I was in theatre for two hours, but Brian has managed to do what I asked him to do. I help but chuckle when I get to the ICU and find Paul doing a kangaroo care on my princess. She is so tiny and he is like a giant.
“Careful! She is so tiny and fragile,” he tells me when I take her. 
I can’t help but laugh at how protective he is. 
My heart skips when the tiny ball of everything curls up on my chest. 
“The doctor said she is breathing well by herself. We should watch for signs like turning blue and very cold and let them know immediately. She has a nurse, who keeps checking on her.”
I nod and thank Paul before looking down at the fast asleep tiny human on my chest.
“Daddy is here, Angel. Mommy will be with us soon.”
“Is she okay?”
I nod, right when the doctors and nurses wheel Amari in.
“She is still unconscious. They are going to try stronger medicine now that Pearl is out of the womb.”
“And she will be okay, right?”
“She has to be. She just has to be.”
“The nurses say everyone is doing well. They are responding to the medication, but they did not get as exposed to that stuff like Amari. They are going to try and get them out of the ventilators tomorrow,” Paul updates me. 
I looks at the ICU full of my family with gratitude. They will be fine. I will protect them better next time.
Brian and Isaac walk in a few minute later. I know from their expression that they have something.
“Lay it on me.”
“Janet was messed-up, but she did not know about the sarin. Her receptionist put it in the product she knew would be used on Amari.”
I look at Brian, shocked. I have so many questions. 
“Why?”
“She is Jerome Clark’s daughter.”
“Okay?”
“He committed suicide last month. She blames you for it.”
I look blankly at them. Jerome was one of the many journalists I sued for smearing my wife. 
“He got fired and lost pretty much everything after the lawsuit. It looks like she was avenging him by taking someone you love,” Brian concludes. 
“How did she get hold of sarin?” 
The agents were clear that is not something you get anywhere. 
“It turns out that she is a wanted terrorist with over two-thousand murders in her belt.”
Not only should I have screened everyone who came close to Amari, but those people’s workers, friends and acquaintances.
“Still not your fault,” Isaac says, reading through me.
I flash him a weak smile and look down at the princess on my chest.
“I will protect you and your mommy better next time. I swear.”
 A day later, Amari is still unconscious, but everyone else is out of the ventilator. Now the place is so noisy. My Gail is swearing at Janet and Pauline none stop. 
“They should hand her over to those death sentence countries,” she says. Pauline has been all over the news for her terrorist activities. The countries she committed her other crimes in have been calling for our government to hand her over to them. It is now a human rights issue that has divided the country. My besties wants her handed over and executed on live television. She has even joined the social media groups to get signatures from people around the world.
“Nathan, you have the power, get the stupid government to hand her over,” she tells me for the hundredth time. 
“I want her punished, Mrs Gail, not killed. Amari would not like that.”
She huffs, but she knows that I am right. I don’t know how I feel about death sentence, but I am very clear on my wife’s stand on it. 
“You don’t have to tell her.”
“Mrs Gail,” Sister While rebukes her.
“What? You all want her dead, you just don’t know it.”
“Life belongs to God. No one has the right to take it, no one,” Nancy says and Mrs Gail rolls her eyes.
“You are just like Amari. Its only new testament in your head. My bible also says, ‘But if there is harm, then you shall pay life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.’ Exodus 21 verse 23 to 25 my sister. Go read it. I should go put sarin on that witch.”
“Sister Gail!”