Chapter 2

Emily shook her head in silence. Her throat felt scorched, as if rubbed by burning grit, and the metallic tang of blood accompanied every breath.

She slowly bent down to pick up the fallen knitting needle, the cold metal stinging her palm.

The muffled echoes of Julian's soft whispers and Sophie's giggles drifted down from the upper floor. His warmth, once Emily's exclusive sanctuary, had become a venomous dagger, buried deep in her chest and turned with agonizing deliberation.

As night fell, the manor grew silent. Emily lay in the expansive bed of the master suite, the space beside her empty and cold.

Reminders of their past were everywhere: their radiant smiles frozen in a picture frame, the wardrobe space Julian had reserved for her, and the plants on the balcony that he always called a nuisance but never forgot to water.

Now, Julian was staying in the guest room at the end of the second floor with Sophie.

He told her that leaving the master bedroom to Emily was a form of compensation.

The sound of light footsteps echoed in the hallway, stopping just outside the door.

Emily's heart leaped, and she held her breath.

Was it Julian? Had he remembered something?

The door creaked open a fraction, allowing a sliver of moonlight to cut across the floor.

But it wasn't Julian standing there. It was Sophie, draped in silk. With a glass of water in hand, she projected an image of concern that was just a little too perfect to be real.

"Ms. Carter, are you still awake?" Sophie asked, her voice unnervingly clear in the silence. "I noticed you didn't eat much this evening, so I brought you some water."

She placed the glass on the nightstand, her gaze flickering toward the photograph before she sighed softly.

"Actually, I really do feel sorry for you," Sophie said, her voice dripping with pity while her eyes remained sharp. "It must be agonizing to cling to a memory that doesn't exist, right? Julian loves me now, and he said it himself."

Her fingers traced her still-flat stomach. "Our child will be born into a home filled with real love."

"Get out," Emily said hoarsely, staring at the ceiling.

"What was that?" Sophie asked.

"I said get out," Emily replied, turning her deep eyes toward Sophie. "This is my room, and it is Julian's room."

Sophie gave a cold smile. "It won't be yours much longer. Julian is taking me to pick out our new home next week."

She stepped closer and lowered her voice. "Apparently, he wants to get rid of every piece of furniture you've ever touched. He said it makes his skin crawl."

A sudden, intense pressure gripped Emily's abdomen, causing her to curl into a ball as cold sweat broke out on her forehead.

Sophie stepped back, affecting a look of panic. "What's wrong? Are you okay? Please don't scare me. You're pregnant," she said, her voice grating in the quiet of the night. "Should I go get Julian?"

"Get out," Emily hissed through clenched teeth.

Sophie shrugged and turned to leave, but she paused at the door to add one last word, "Oh, by the way, the doctor said my pregnancy is a bit unstable, and Julian is terrified.

"He says this baby is his lucky star. As for your child, he hasn't mentioned it once."

The door clicked shut. The room fell silent, leaving only Emily's labored breathing and the tightening cramps in her stomach. She reached for the glass of water on the nightstand, hoping to wash away the nausea and the pain.

As her fingers touched the glass, it suddenly tipped over, spilling ice-cold water across her nightgown and her stomach.

Almost simultaneously, the door was thrown open. Julian stood in the doorway in his robe, clearly having been summoned by Sophie. He looked at the disheveled Emily on the bed and at the shattered glass and the puddle of water, his brow furrowing in irritation.

"What on earth are you doing in the middle of the night?" he demanded impatiently. "You scared Sophie, and she cannot handle stress while she is pregnant. Do you understand that?"

Emily was in too much pain to speak, clutching her stomach as her face turned a ghostly white. Julian looked at her agony, and for a split second, his expression softened, as if he wanted to step forward.

But Sophie's weak voice drifted from the hallway. "Julian, I don't feel well. My stomach hurts..."

Julian turned instantly, his voice switching back to a tender whisper. "Don't be afraid. I'm right here. Let's get you back to bed, and I'll call the doctor."

His footsteps grew faint, disappearing along with Sophie's murmurs. He was gone, without a single backward glance. A chilling dampness clung to Emily's body, but it was nothing compared to the freezing void spreading in her chest.

Shaking, she touched the space between her legs, her fingers coming away slick with a warm, thick fluid. In the weak light of the bedside lamp, she saw the terrifying red.

Blood was everywhere now, drenching her dress and blooming across the bedsheets like a dark flower.

A wave of agony crashed over her like a tsunami, her vision blurring until a loud ringing filled her ears.

She tried to reach for her phone with the last of her strength, but her fingers were stiff and unresponsive.

Just as the darkness began to consume her, she was pulled back to a distant afternoon.

Beside the basketball court, a youth in a white shirt was running her way, his brow glistening and his eyes shining like a sea of stars. "Excuse me," he said with a grin, "can I grab a sip of your water? I'm short on cash today."

Back then, Julian's smile was pure and bright, free of any malice.

How did it all end up like this?

This was the final, flickering thought Emily held before slipping into a deep unconsciousness.