Chapter 3

I stared at the grocery store cashier in disbelief, my face burning with humiliation. "I'm sorry, it's been declined?" I repeated, unable to process what was happening.

The cashier, a young woman with kind eyes, handed my credit card back to me. "Yes, ma'am. Would you like to try another card?"

I fumbled through my wallet, my fingers trembling slightly. I was eight months pregnant, standing awkwardly in the checkout line with a cart full of essentials—diapers, formula samples, and prenatal vitamins. Things I needed.

"There must be some mistake," I murmured, pulling out another card. This was our joint account, the one Daniel and I had shared since we got married. The one linked to my trust fund that had been steadily depositing money each month.

The cashier swiped the second card. Her expression remained neutral, but I saw the slight tightening around her eyes. "I'm sorry, this one's been declined too."

The elderly woman behind me in line gave a small sigh of impatience. I felt the weight of everyone's stares.

"I'll... I'll put some things back," I stammered, hastily removing items from the conveyor belt.

Back in my car, tears threatened to spill over as I called the bank's customer service number.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hayes," the representative explained after I'd given my information. "It appears your access to the joint accounts has been restricted."

"Restricted? By whom?"

"By Mr. Hayes, as the primary account holder."

My hand tightened around the phone. "When did this happen?"

"Just yesterday afternoon."

Yesterday. Right after our confrontation at the bar.

"And what about the account balance?" I asked, my voice barely steady.

There was a pause. "I'm showing a balance of $2,317.42 in the checking account and $4,502.18 in savings."

I nearly dropped the phone. Our accounts typically carried balances of at least six figures.

"Where is the rest of the money?"

"I'm not authorized to discuss transfers with you at this time, Mrs. Hayes."

After ending the call, I sat in my car, the reality of my situation sinking in. Daniel hadn't just betrayed me emotionally—he was systematically cutting off my resources. The baby kicked sharply, as if sensing my distress.

"We're going to be okay," I whispered, though I wasn't sure how.

---

Three days later, the doorbell rang. I was sorting through financial documents, trying to understand the extent of what Daniel had done, when I heard Rachel's voice calling from the foyer.

"Emma? It's me! I brought you something!"

I quickly wiped away tears that had been threatening to fall and tucked the papers under a magazine before making my way to the living room.

Rachel stood there holding an elaborate bouquet of lilies—my favorite—her smile bright and cheerful. But something in her eyes remained cold, calculating.

"Rachel," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "This is a surprise."

"A good one, I hope!" She breezed past me into the living room, setting the flowers down on the coffee table. "I've been worried about you. Everyone's talking about how stressed you've been."

Everyone meaning Daniel, I assumed.

"I'm fine," I replied stiffly.

Rachel's gaze traveled over my swollen belly, her smile never reaching her eyes. "You look... tired. Are you sleeping okay? Taking your prenatal vitamins?"

"Yes, thank you for asking." I remained standing, unwilling to invite her to stay.

She ignored my subtle hint. "I spoke with Daniel yesterday. He mentioned you've been having some... paranoid thoughts?"

The audacity of her question made my blood boil. "Did he now?"

"He's concerned about you," she continued, perching on the edge of my sofa. "About your mental state. Pregnancy hormones can be so intense."

I bit back a retort. "What did you really come for, Rachel?"

Her smile faltered for just a moment before returning, sweeter than ever. "Just to check on my favorite cousin! Oh, and I was wondering—have you finalized your birth plan? Do you know who your backup is if Daniel can't make it for some reason?"

The question seemed innocent enough, but something in her tone made me pause.

"And your will," she added casually. "Have you updated that? With the baby coming and all?"

I studied her face carefully. "Why do you ask?"

"Just being thorough!" She stood up, smoothing her skirt. "Oh, and how are things at Vance Industries? Dad mentioned they're looking for new leadership soon."

---

Later that evening, a sharp pain knifed through my abdomen. Unlike the Braxton Hicks contractions I'd been experiencing, this one was accompanied by a warm trickle down my thigh.

Blood.

Panic surged through me as I grabbed my phone with shaking hands and dialed Daniel's number.

"Emma," he answered, sounding annoyed at the interruption.

"Daniel, something's wrong," I gasped between pains that were coming closer together. "I'm bleeding."

A pause. "Are you sure it's not just discharge?"

"No!" I nearly shouted. "It's blood, Daniel. A lot of it."

Another pause, longer this time. I could hear muffled voices in the background.

"I'm stuck in an important meeting," he finally said. "Can't you call someone else?"

Tears of pain and betrayal streamed down my face as I ended the call and dialed 911 instead.

At the hospital, nurses rushed me into an examination room, their faces serious as they hooked me up to monitors.

"Where's the father?" one asked while checking my vitals.

"He's... unavailable," I managed through gritted teeth.

Her eyebrows rose slightly as she noted my elevated blood pressure. "Stress can trigger labor complications," she said gently. "Especially in high-risk pregnancies like yours."

As they wheeled me away for an emergency ultrasound to check on the baby, I heard two nurses speaking just outside the curtain.

"That's the third expectant mother this week who's come in alone," one said in a hushed tone.

"At least her baby looks healthy on the monitor," the other replied. "But it's odd that the father isn't here."

"I know. Reminds me of those domestic abuse cases we had last year."

Their voices faded as they moved away, but their words echoed in my mind.

Domestic abuse.

Is that what this was? Not just betrayal, but something darker?

As the ultrasound technician spread cold gel across my belly, I placed a protective hand over my unborn child and made a silent vow: No matter what Daniel and Rachel were planning, they would not hurt this baby.

They would not take everything from me.

But as another pain gripped me and no one held my hand through it, I wondered how much more I could endure alone.