Chapter 1

Series 1 Chapter 1

"High-risk pregnancy. Absolute bed rest."

The doctor's stern warning was still echoing in my mind when Joshua set a glass of warm milk on my nightstand.

He leaned down and kissed my forehead. Soft. Tender. Devoted.

"I hired the best private maternity specialist in the city," Joshua whispered, his eyes filled with gentle concern. "She moves in tonight, Erica. You won't have to lift a finger."

An hour later, Layla stood in our foyer.

Twenty-four. Soft cream cardigan, hair pinned in a loose silk clip, smelling faintly of lavender and fresh linen.

She knelt beside my sofa, placing a warm compress on my swollen ankles with practiced ease. She adjusted my pregnancy pillows, checked my fetal monitor, and cooked a low-sodium dinner before I could even ask.

Joshua watched from the kitchen island, his shoulders relaxed for the first time in months.

"See, Erica?" he whispered later that evening, tucking a loose lock of hair behind my ear. "I promised I'd take care of you and our baby."

For seven long, agonizing months, my high-risk pregnancy had made me feel like a heavy burden in this home. But watching Joshua check the fetal monitor with such tender care, a faint flicker of warmth touched my chest.

Maybe he finally cares. Maybe we can be a real family.

At 11:40 PM, Joshua's side of the bed went cold.

I woke up to absolute silence. I pulled on my silk robe, picked up my black leather pregnancy journal, and walked quietly onto the second-floor balcony overlooking the garage.

The side door was ajar. A dim amber light spilled across the concrete driveway.

Layla was leaning against the workbench. Joshua had his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

"She's sound asleep," Joshua murmured, burying his face in her neck.

Layla smiled, guiding his hand down to her lower belly. There was a soft, subtle swell beneath her thin robe.

"She suspects nothing," Layla whispered. "How much longer do I have to play nurse, Joshua?"

Joshua kissed her lips, slow and lingering.

"Just a little longer, sweetie. Until the timing is right."

I stood frozen in the dark shadows. My breath remained slow and even. My heart didn't break -- it turned into solid ice.

I unlocked my phone, recorded six seconds of clear audio, and opened page 210 of my black leather pregnancy journal to log the exact timestamp: 11:42 PM.

Chapter 1

Series 1 Chapter 1

"High-risk pregnancy. Absolute bed rest."

The doctor's stern warning was still echoing in my mind when Joshua set a glass of warm milk on my nightstand.

He leaned down and kissed my forehead. Soft. Tender. Devoted.

"I hired the best private maternity specialist in the city," Joshua whispered, his eyes filled with gentle concern. "She moves in tonight, Erica. You won't have to lift a finger."

An hour later, Layla stood in our foyer.

Twenty-four. Soft cream cardigan, hair pinned in a loose silk clip, smelling faintly of lavender and fresh linen.

Joshua watched from the kitchen island, his shoulders relaxed for the first time in months.

"See, Erica?" he whispered later that evening, tucking a loose lock of hair behind my ear. "I promised I'd take care of you and our baby."

Maybe he finally cares. Maybe we can be a real family.

At 11:40 PM, Joshua's side of the bed went cold.

I woke up to absolute silence. I pulled on my silk robe, picked up my black leather pregnancy journal, and walked quietly onto the second-floor balcony overlooking the garage.

The side door was ajar. A dim amber light spilled across the concrete driveway.

Layla was leaning against the workbench. Joshua had his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

"She's sound asleep," Joshua murmured, burying his face in her neck.

Layla smiled, guiding his hand down to her lower belly. There was a soft, subtle swell beneath her thin robe.

"She suspects nothing," Layla whispered. "How much longer do I have to play nurse, Joshua?"

Joshua kissed her lips, slow and lingering.

"Just a little longer, sweetie. Until the timing is right."

I stood frozen in the dark shadows. My breath remained slow and even. My heart didn't break -- it turned into solid ice.

I unlocked my phone, recorded six seconds of clear audio, and opened page 210 of my black leather pregnancy journal to log the exact timestamp: 11:42 PM.