Chapter 2

I sat up in silence and fished out the only half-pack of cigarettes I had left from under my pillow.

I'd traded my only valuable necklace for them as "protection money."

Scarface weighed the cigarettes in her hand, looking pleased, but she still didn't leave. "Heard you ended up in here because of a man. Taking the blame for someone else, huh? That's so noble of you."

Her friend cackled loudly.

I closed my eyes, refusing to respond.

"Are you mute or something?" Scarface sneered. A rough hand clamped down on my chin. "I'm talking to you."

I opened my eyes and stared her down, calm and unafraid. "I've already given you what you wanted. Don't go too far."

Maybe my icy stare threw her off, because she paused for a second.

Then, her expression darkened with rage, and she slapped me hard across the face. "Who do you think you are, acting all high and mighty?"

I hit the floor, instinctively clutching my stomach.

A sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen, and my face went pale in an instant.

"Blood. She's bleeding!" someone screamed.

The guards' footsteps were getting louder and closer, and in the chaos, someone hauled me up off the floor.

My vision blurred, but I clamped my teeth on my lip, determined not to black out.

Baby.

My baby.

*****

The ceiling of the prison hospital was patchy and yellowed.

When I woke up, my hand automatically reached for my stomach.

It was flat and empty.

A woman in a white coat stood by my bed, her face expressionless. "You had a miscarriage."

Those words, spoken so lightly, were like knives stabbing straight into my heart.

"You were brought in too late. You lost a lot of blood. It's a miracle you survived." She paused, and for once, a hint of pity crossed her face. "Should I notify your family?"

I shook my head, my voice rough as I replied, "I don't have any family."

The doctor looked like she wanted to say something, but in the end, sighed and turned away.

I stared at the ceiling, letting silent tears slip down my face.

I didn't make a sound and let my pillow get soaked with tears.

This was the last time I'd ever let myself cry for Vincent.

I swore.

Three months in, I was starting to get used to prison life.

If you could even call it "life." It was endless repetitive labor, barely edible food, and bullying that never stopped.

I learned to stay quiet, to endure, and to observe everything around me.

This place was like a small society, with its own rules and hierarchy.

Scarface was sent to solitary confinement for fighting, which meant I was safe, at least for a while.

But new trouble came knocking.

"Elisa, you got a visitor," a guard barked.

I was surprised.

Could it be Vincent?

No way, that's impossible.

He said he wouldn't visit me for three years, so no one would suspect anything.

As I followed the guard to the visitation room, I felt strangely calm.

I was a little curious about who it could be.

On the other side of the glass sat my best friend, Karla Ryan.

Her eyes were red and swollen, and the moment she saw me, fresh tears started to fall.

"Elisa..." She was so choked up that she couldn't speak.

I picked up the receiver and smiled at her, "Don't cry. I'm okay."

"How can you say you're okay?" Karla slammed her hand against the glass. "Vincent, that bastard. He's made it official with Charlotte. Last week at the charity gala, he brought her along and called her his fiancée."

My chest tightened up for a second.

So, it could still hurt.

"Is that so?" I heard my own voice, calm and steady.

"Elisa, how can you be so calm?" Karla dropped her voice, and her tears wouldn't stop falling. "You know what? Charlotte isn't sick at all. She's totally fine.

"I checked. Her so-called heart problem is that her heart races sometimes. She doesn't even need any meds. Vincent lied to you. He threw you in prison to protect that bitch."