Chapter 4

The hospital corridor stretched endlessly before me, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like angry wasps. I drifted in and out of consciousness, my body a map of pain—ribs throbbing where Elliott had kicked me, arms cut from the ceramic shards, and the hollow ache in my womb where my baby should still be.

"Stella? Stella, can you hear me?"

The voice cut through the fog of medication and grief. I forced my eyes open, blinking against the harsh light.

Arthur stood beside my bed, his normally immaculate appearance disheveled, dark circles under his eyes. He'd flown back from London the moment…