Chapter 1
On the night of the downpour, after the crash, Wade Jennings pulled only one person from the car.
It wasn't me, eight months pregnant and stuck in the back seat. It was Vivian Sterling in the passenger seat.
In the end, it was the paramedics who pulled me out from under the car.
Outside the operating room, I overheard Wade on the phone with Vivian. "Don't be scared, everyone's okay. Just stay home and wait for me."
The day after the surgery, Wade came to my bedside, sat there for ages, and finally said, "Vivian's always been frail. In that kind of situation, she never could've made it out on her own."
I cut him off. "The divorce papers are in the second drawer of the nightstand."
His eyes were red as he grabbed my hand. "I know I messed up. Just give me another chance."
I pulled my hand back. Pain tugged at my wound, but I didn't flinch. "Wade, the baby's gone."
*****
I pointed at the divorce papers on the nightstand.
Wade's eyes were red as he shook his head frantically.
He grabbed the pen, raised it as if to throw it, then stopped himself. "I'm not signing."
He gripped my wrist tightly. "Hannah, I know I wasn't there for you this time, but Vivian was trapped in the seat and couldn't get out.
"How could I ever abandon you and the baby?"
I pulled my hand back.
The movement tugged at my freshly stitched wound, cold sweat dripping into my eyes. "Wade, the baby's gone."
Wade stood there, stunned.
He suddenly stood up, the chair screeching against the floor. "Hannah, how long are you going to keep acting like this?"
He pointed right at my nose. "Are you seriously making up this kind of lie to get my attention? Can't you be reasonable for once?"
He stormed out of the room.
Amy, the nurse, walked over with a tray, and Wade grabbed her by the collar.
The tray hit the floor, medicine bottles shattering across the tiles.
Wade yelled, "Go get your attending doctor. Have her checked again, right now."
Amy was shaking with fear as she ran to the nurse's station.
Less than five minutes later, a doctor, William Lynch, came in with two nurses, wheeling a portable ultrasound machine into the room.
Wade came over and held me down by the shoulders. "Do it."
William stood there, frowning. "Mr. Jennings, the patient underwent an induced labor procedure. She's extremely weak."
"I said, do it." Wade's eyes were bloodshot as he kept a tight grip on my shoulders.
The ultrasound probe pressed firmly against my abdomen.
Wade's fingers dug deep into my flesh.
My fresh episiotomy stitches were compressed, blood soaking through my hospital gown and turning the white sheets scarlet.
I shook uncontrollably, biting my lip until I tasted blood, the metallic flavor filling my mouth.
Wade stared at the screen, his throat working. "Where's my baby? Where are you hiding my baby?"
The sight of him acting so self-righteously devoted made my stomach clench, and I retched up bitter bile.
William pushed Wade away hard.
He yanked a stack of papers from his lab coat pocket and threw them right at Wade's face. "See for yourself!"
The induction surgery consent form bearing my signature and photos of the stillborn baby littered the floor.
Wade stared down at the photos on the floor.
His legs gave out, and he sank to his knees beside the bed.
He slapped himself hard across the face. The sharp crack echoed through the room.
"Hannah, I messed up. I swear I didn't know." Wade reached desperately for my hand.
Suddenly, his phone rang.
Vivian's name flashed on the screen.
Wade hesitated for a moment, then answered.
Vivian was sobbing on the other end. "Wade, people online are calling me a homewrecker. They say I killed your baby.
"I don't want to live anymore."
Wade quickly wiped his tears with his sleeve and stood up. "Vivian, don't be scared. I'm here. Please, don't do anything stupid."
He hung up and turned to face me. "Hannah, you need to log into your social media and post a statement.
"Just say it was all an accident, and that you've already forgiven Vivian."
I turned away, refusing to look at him.
Wade pulled open my drawer and rummaged around until he found my phone.
He grabbed my hand and pressed my finger to the screen to unlock it. "Vivian has severe depression. She can't handle this kind of pressure.
"Can't you be the bigger person here?"
Wade was hammering out a statement on my phone, his fingers flying across the screen.
I threw myself at him, desperate, clawing to snatch my phone back.
The IV line was torn free, the needle ripping through my skin, and my hand swelled up in seconds.
Blood bubbled from the puncture wound and splattered across the blanket.
I looked at Wade.
He couldn't keep up the act for one more second.
I opened the dashcam admin panel.
With one tap, I posted the uncut footage of Wade abandoning me and carrying Vivian out of the passenger seat without a single glance back, broadcasting it to the entire internet.
Once it was sent, I tossed my phone onto the bed.