Chapter 2

The doctor pushed up her glasses and passed me the test results. "You're pregnant. Eight weeks along."

My mind went blank. I thought it was so absurd for me to get pregnant when I was ready to leave everything behind. My hands shook as I took the report, staring at all the medical jargon I couldn't understand and that clear conclusion at the end.

The doctor looked at how hollowed out and lost I was, sighed, and dropped another bombshell. "And according to the ultrasound, you're expecting quadruplets.

"Your health isn't the best, and as an older first-time mom, carrying four babies at once is extremely risky. I suggest you seriously consider selective reduction."

My hand instinctively went to my still-flat belly. Inside, my four babies were growing.

I thought of Margaret's mean face and her almost obsessive craving for an heir to the Grant family. I remembered how James treated me coldly, all for that so-called "heir."

I had four of what they wanted most. But it had nothing to do with them. These were my babies. After everyone abandoned me, this was the only bond fate left me.

A surge of strength I'd never felt before welled up inside me, chasing away all the despair and lifelessness.

I lifted my head, meeting the doctor's gaze with unwavering resolve. "I'm not getting rid of any of my babies. Not a single one will be left behind. I'm going to have all of them."

The doctor stared at me in surprise, seemingly not expecting me to be so determined.

I didn't explain myself further. I pulled out the IV from my hand, ignored the doctor's protests, and checked myself out of the hospital.

The first thing I did after leaving the hospital was to cash that check at the bank.

The second thing was to find the most professional agency and get my immigration processed as fast as possible. I'd go somewhere no one knew me and where I could start over with my babies.

James, Margaret, and everything about the Grant family would all be left behind. And I would build a new future for my children.

*****

When the plane landed, it was dusk locally. A jumble of unfamiliar languages filled my ears, all blending into a background noise I couldn't make sense of.

The air carried scents that were nothing like what I remembered from home.

I stood at the airport exit with my suitcase, staring at a city that was completely new to me. I was suddenly overwhelmed by loneliness.

No one here knew me. Maybe this was for the best. It meant everything from my past was a world away.

With part of that money, I bought a small house with a garden in a peaceful neighborhood.

It wasn't big, but it felt cozy. It was enough to give the four babies I was expecting a real home.

I set up the nursery myself, and when I saw those four tiny cribs lined up together, my heart filled with tender anticipation.

But reality was harder than I'd imagined. The early pregnancy symptoms hit me, overwhelming and violent. I almost threw up whatever I ate and lost weight rapidly.

The hardest part was going to the doctor's appointments. Every time, I'd see other pregnant women with their husbands fussing over them, while I was always alone.

I'd carry stacks of test results, dragging myself from one floor to another in the hospital.

One time, my blood sugar dropped so low that I almost blacked out on the stairs.

That feeling of being all alone in the world nearly crushed me. But whenever I thought about the four little lives growing inside me, I'd find the strength to keep going.

They meant everything to me. I couldn't give up.

As my belly got bigger, moving around got harder and harder.

*****

One day, I went to the nearby Clusian supermarket to stock up on some food.

Standing in front of the shelves, I reached for a pack of pasta on the top shelf. As I stretched up on my tiptoes, I wobbled and lost my balance.

I gasped, instinctively protecting my belly, bracing myself for the pain of a fall. But the impact never came.

A strong arm caught me around the waist in time, and a gentle male voice rang out. "Be careful."

Still shaken, I got my footing back and turned to look.

It was a stranger. He looked to be in his early thirties, wearing a crisp white shirt. His eyes were warm, and he had a refined, scholarly vibe.

He noticed how pale I was and asked, concerned. "Are you okay? It's risky for a pregnant woman to be out here alone." His Clusian was good, with a soft accent.

"I'm fine, thank you." I calmed down and thanked him.

He grabbed the pasta for me and placed it into my cart. "You're welcome."

Then he smiled, showing a set of perfect teeth. "I'm Ryan Wilson. I moved in next door a few days ago."

I realized he was my neighbor.