Chapter 3

"Mom, did Grandma bully you again?"

The urgent whisper came from behind me. Molly ran up, her small hands grabbing my arm as her eyes scanned me anxiously. "Come on, let's get you changed before you catch a cold."

Her warmth was a balm on my frayed nerves, chasing away some of the chill. "I'm okay, sweetie. Just put your backpack down, okay?"

In the living room, the chatter died. All eyes were on us. The air grew thick with a strained silence.

"See? I told you," Charlie yelled with disgust. "She always looks like a total mess. She's not good enough for my dad."

He had no idea or didn't care how much his words hurt. Seeing me standing there, disheveled and broken, only fueled his contempt.

Molly dropped her backpack and charged across the room, shoving Charlie to the floor. "Who do you think you are?" she shrieked, pointing at him. "You can't just call anyone 'Mom'! Why don't you shut your damn mouth!"

She pulled her fist back, ready to punch him, when Edward grabbed her collar and yanked her aside.

"Enough!" he barked.

"Apologize to your brother. Now. We don't hit people in this house, you know that!"

Molly stared at him in disbelief, tears welling up. "He started it! He was trashing Mom! Why should I apologize? You heard him!"

Edward's expression darkened. "Fine. You won't apologize? Go to your room. And don't come out until I say so."

It was his cardinal rule. Ever since the kids were little, he had drilled it into them—you solve problems with words, not fists. Breaking that rule meant lockdown.

Normally, I didn't pay much attention to his parenting decrees. Those kids were my babies, the ones I nearly died bringing into this world. How could I stand to punish them?

But this was different. He was channeling all his anger onto Molly. And I wasn't going to let that happen.

"Molly, come to Mama," I said firmly.

She ran to me and buried her face in my shoulder, crying softly.

I wrapped my arms around her, stroking her back. This was the first time I had ever openly defied Edward like this. But if I didn't stand up for Molly now, her little heart would be shattered.

Maybe it was because of the guests, but Edward just stood there, fuming silently.

"Charlie, honey, apologize to your mother," Jessica cooed, bending down to take his hand. "You were just joking with me, weren't you? Tell your mom not to worry."

She led him over to me, offering a placating smile, "Kids say the darndest things. He was just being silly. Don't take it to heart."

"Forget it. It's nothing. Let's eat," Edward said, his mood visibly lightening in Jessica's presence. Then his gaze fell on me, his brow furrowing in irritation. "Where have you been to get that filthy? Go get changed."

With that, he turned and ushered his guests toward the dining room.

I watched as Charlie, completely unfazed, walked away, holding hands with both Jessica and Edward, getting further and further from me.

It felt like a boulder crushing my chest.

The past was a thorn lodged in my heart. Every time someone twisted it, the pain became unbearable.

I look at Charlie, standing frozen in the street. His face was streaked with tears, but all I felt was a desperate urge for him to disappear from my life for good.

That's when Edward showed up, fury radiating off him.

He grabbed Charlie roughly and bellowed, "Who said you could skip school? Didn't I tell you to stay away from your mother?"

"She is my mother! Just because you can't win her back doesn't mean I have to give up! You're just scared she'll forgive me first, and then you'll have no excuse to see her anymore!" Charlie shot back, fearless.

Right there in the middle of the street, the father and son screamed at each other.

Five years had only made them hate each other more.

But that wasn't my problem anymore. I turned away, forcing myself to ignore the dizziness, desperate to escape.

Then the world spun. Everything went black. Distant shouting echoed in my ears.

When I came to, I bolted upright, my heart hammering.

I was in my old house, the one I had lived in for nine years with Edward. Everything was exactly as I had left it.

A voice ground out behind me, clipped with barely checked rage.

"You're pregnant.

"Whose is it?"