Chapter 2
Sloan yelled at me, her eyes looking like they were about to pop out of her head.
My slap landed right on her cheek, and she looked at me, totally stunned.
"Melody!" Sloan screamed.
Ewan shoved me, and my lower back crashed into the cabinet behind me.
Agonizing pain spread through my body.
I stared at Ewan, tears clouding my vision.
"Ewan, that's our daughter's room, isn't it? You were the one who decorated it yourself!" I shouted.
Ewan turned his head away, refusing to meet my eyes, his words cold as ice.
"You owe Sloan and Lacey, Melody. You need to pay for what you did to our daughter," he said, his tone frosty.
I stumbled up the stairs.
When I opened the door, the room that used to be filled with cute colors was now painted pitch black.
The walls were plastered with photos of Lacey, and right in the center hung a large framed memorial photo of her.
I made my way over.
On the altar, the ultrasound report was marked with countless red spell papers.
I hurried over, gingerly picked up the report, shaking all over and unable to stop.
This ultrasound report was given to me by the doctor during my 4D ultrasound.
When I handed it to Ewan, he was grinning from ear to ear.
He even said he'd frame it and treasure it for the rest of his life.
Sloan and Ewan came in after me.
I raised the report right in front of Ewan, my hands shaking.
His lips parted, but he couldn't get a single word out.
"Melody, you killed my Lacey!" Sloan shouted, her voice trembling with fury.
"So your child has to take your place and suffer in hell, never to find peace!" she shrieked, her words dripping with venom.
Sloan started to lose it, so Ewan quickly grabbed her meds and helped her take them.
He couldn't hide the worry in his eyes for her.
Clutching Ewan's collar, I begged him to take those things away.
But he just pulled Sloan into his arms, wouldn't even spare me a glance.
Sloan demanded that I kneel in this room for seven days and seven nights.
Only then would she hand back the ultrasound report of my baby.
"Alright, I'll kneel," I whispered, feeling my heart sink.
I walked over to Lacey's memorial photo and knelt down in front of it.
Behind me, Ewan's voice was merciless.
"Lacey was already four years old. Our daughter hadn't even been born yet. She didn't even count as a person," he said.
I closed my eyes, finally letting myself accept it.
Ewan didn't love me, and he didn't love our daughter either.
But he didn't even realize that I didn't kill Lacey.
Three years ago, Lacey died at her birthday party.
It all happened because Ewan's older brother had just died.
Ewan bought our newlywed home right next to Sloan's house.
He said it'd be easier for him to take care of Sloan and Lacey that way.
I agreed.
Sloan asked me to go over to her place and watch Lacey for her.
She needed to get her gown.
When I walked in, I saw Lacey lying by the staircase entrance, not breathing at all.
Blood was streaming down, covering the entire staircase.
I screamed and ran over.
But just as I reached Lacey, Sloan burst back in.
A moment later, Ewan came rushing in too.
Sloan cried out, yelling that I was the one who pushed Lacey.
I tried to explain everything to Ewan, but he just ignored me completely, like my words meant nothing.
He didn't care at all that I was eight months pregnant. He just shoved me hard to the floor, as if I was nothing to him.
My stomach crashed into the shattered vase by the staircase, and the jagged pieces pierced straight into me.
I pleaded desperately with Ewan to take me to the hospital, my voice shaking with panic and pain.
But he just carried Lacey in his arms and left without a single glance at me.
The fierce kicks in my belly told me my daughter was crying out for help.
But the agony pinned me to the floor, helpless. I couldn't even move.
My phone was with Ewan, so all I could do was grit my teeth and crawl over to the bottom of the stairs, pain shooting through me with every move.
My white dress was stained bright red with blood.
By the time Ewan finally came back for me, it was already too late.
I lost the baby.
The doctor told me it was an adorable little girl.
He gently reassured me, saying, "Don't be too heartbroken. If you take care of yourself, you'll have another chance someday."
That night when I lost my baby, Ewan came over with Sloan.
I really thought his swollen, red eyes were because he was grieving for me and our child.
But when Sloan kept slapping me over and over, and Ewan just watched, didn't even flinch, I finally got it.
His heart was aching for Sloan, not me.
I broke down, sobbing and begging, swearing I didn't kill Lacey.
But Ewan just stared at me like I was making it all up.
He dragged me over, letting Sloan vent all her fury on me.
Her high heels dug into my stomach, fresh from surgery, over and over, each step sending a new wave of agony through me.
He couldn't hear my gut-wrenching screams, no matter how desperately I cried out.
His gaze was glued to Sloan the whole time.
On the tenth day after the tragedy, Ewan sent me straight to prison.
He said I had to pay for Lacey's death.
"I refuse to accept this! I'm going to appeal!" I shouted.
Ewan gripped my jaw, his eyes full of hate.
"You still won't admit it, huh? Maybe locking you up will finally teach you to behave!" he snarled.
Now, I had finally learned to keep my head down.
"Eat all of this. You're so skinny. How are you supposed to be Sloan's guinea pig like this?"
Ewan's voice cut through the darkness.