Chapter 1

While I was signing the consent form for emergency surgery, Charles Bennett was holding Olivia Summers' daughter and helping Olivia blow out the candles on her thirty-third birthday cake. On my phone screen, the flames on the cake kept leaping higher and higher.

Olivia wore a white dress and made a wish with her eyes closed, while Lily wrapped her arms around Charles' neck and said in her little-girl voice, "Daddy, you have to stay with Mommy forever." In the background, people were chanting, "Kiss her! Kiss her!"

Meanwhile, I sat on a cold plastic chair in the ER, blood running down my legs and soaking through my shoes. The nurse slapped the consent form down in front of me. "Where's your family? You can't wait any longer. What started as a threatened miscarriage has turned into heavy bleeding. If we delay any more, we won't be able to save the baby."

I stared at my phone and made the ninth call. It rang for a long time before he finally picked up. The moment it connected, all I heard was the birthday song.

"Charles," I said, my teeth chattering. "I'm at the hospital."

It was noisy on his end. He sounded like he'd stepped into a corner, barely hiding his impatience. "Grace, what is it now?"

"I'm bleeding." He went quiet for a second. I almost thought he was going to say, "Wait for me."

But in the next second, he only lowered his voice and said, "Let the doctor check you first. I can't leave right now."

I looked at my pale face on the screen and suddenly laughed. "You can't leave? Because you're celebrating Olivia Summers' birthday?"

Charles' breathing hitched. Then his voice turned cold. "Did you follow me?"

"Charles Bennett, I'm carrying your child."

"Grace," he said, word by word, "it's Olivia's birthday today. Stop using the baby to make a scene."

I didn't even get to say another word before he hung up.

The nurse urged me again. "Sign it." I lowered my head and signed my own name on the line for the family signature. My hand trembled the whole time. That night, I went into the operating room alone.

When the doctor turned the light back on, I heard her sigh. "The baby couldn't be saved." I stared at the blinding surgical light above me and suddenly couldn't make a sound.

It wasn't that I'd never thought this marriage would rot. I just never thought it would rot in my child's blood.

By the time the surgery ended, it was already three in the morning. The room was so quiet I could only hear the IV dripping, one drop at a time.

The first thing I did when I woke up was reach for my stomach. It was flat. Empty. As if something had been ripped out of my body by force, leaving a hollow in my chest that hurt with every breath.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I thought it was a hospital notice. Instead, it was a WhatsApp message from Olivia Summers. A photo.

In the picture, Charles was crouched in front of Lily, wiping frosting from the corner of her mouth. Olivia sat beside them, watching with a soft smile. The three of them looked like the perfect little family.

She sent a message with it: [Sorry, Grace. Charles had too much to drink and just fell asleep. If it's nothing serious, stop calling him in the middle of the night.]

I stared at that message for a long time, then turned off my phone. I didn't cry. I just calmly sent Edward Foster a message: [Help me draft a divorce agreement.]

Edward replied instantly: [Where are you?] I sent him the hospital's name. Three minutes later, another message came in: [Don't move. I'm coming.]