Chapter 1
Ten weeks pregnant, I slipped and fell, and the bleeding would not stop.
I called my husband, Adam Grant, seventeen times for help, but every call was blocked by the SmartHome Assistant he had developed himself.
A gentle mechanical voice reminded me: [Emotional fluctuation detected in partner. Cooldown Protection Mode activated.]
My vision darkened from the pain, and I cried out through my sobs, "Adam Grant, I'm bleeding. We might lose the baby."
The AI fell silent for a second.
Then it replied: [Keywords detected: pregnancy, bleeding, baby.
[Elevated emotional risk. Deep-breathing exercises are recommended.]
The next second, the smart screen in the living room suddenly lit up.
A message from his childhood sweetheart, Chloe Rivers, appeared: [Adam, I'm scared.]
A piercing alert immediately sounded: [Incoming message from Top-Priority Contact. Forced wake-up activated for Mr. Grant.]
At the same time, the bedroom door opened.
Adam grabbed his coat and hurried out.
Lying on the bathroom floor, I watched through the half-open door as his figure disappeared through the entryway.
An ambulance eventually took me to the hospital.
The doctor said the baby could not be saved because I had arrived too late.
As I lay in the hospital bed, staring at the records of all seventeen blocked calls on my phone, I suddenly felt at peace.
I simply removed Adam Grant from my emergency contacts.
Then I sent my lawyer a message: [Draw up the divorce papers today.]
My lawyer called me back shortly after my D&C.
The anesthesia had not fully worn off, and waves of dragging pain rolled through my lower abdomen.
The nurse slowed my IV drip and asked softly, "Your family still hasn't come?"
I shook my head.
She glanced at the chart by my bed, then hesitated as if she wanted to say something.
I knew what she was thinking.
A woman ten weeks pregnant had fallen, hemorrhaged, and miscarried, yet not a single family member was by her side.
It did sound pitiful.
At that moment, I lacked the strength to pity myself.
My lawyer asked over the phone, "Ms. Lane, are you sure you want the divorce agreement drafted today?"
I looked out at the gray-white sky. "I'm sure."
"Do you have any specific requests regarding the division of assets?"
"Divide the marital property according to the law."
"What about Mr. Grant's shares in the company?"
I fell silent for a moment.
Adam Grant's company was called HavenTech.
Its flagship product was the FamilySense System.
He had once said he created it so every family member's needs could receive a timely response.
Back then, I had thought the idea sounded gentle.
Now, it only seemed bitterly ironic.
A system that claimed to protect family members had abandoned me, the wife, before anyone else.
I said, "I don't want his company. I only want the divorce."
My lawyer paused. "All right. I understand."
After the call ended, the hospital room fell silent again.
I picked up my phone.
Adam had not called me once.
He had, however, sent me a message half an hour earlier. [Chloe had a panic attack last night. I'm at her place.
[What were you trying to prove by calling so many times?
[The SmartHome Assistant blocked you because your emotions were too unstable.
[Summer Lane, stop using this kind of thing to pressure me every time.]
I stared at the last sentence for a long time.
I had been covered in blood, lying on the bathroom floor and begging him to answer.
To him, that was me pressuring him.
I did not reply.
I only opened Chloe's social feed.
Her latest post had been uploaded at two in the morning.
In the photo, Adam was sitting on her sofa, still wearing the black coat from the night before.
Chloe leaned against his shoulder, her face pale and her eyes red.
The caption read: [Whenever the darkness is about to swallow me, thank goodness you're always there.]
Adam had liked the post.
I stared at the photo.
Suddenly, I remembered the cold bathroom tiles from the night before.
I remembered blood running down my legs as I desperately forced myself up to reach my phone.
I remembered the SmartHome Assistant gently repeating, [Deep-breathing exercises are recommended.]
And at that moment, I had actually obeyed and taken deep breaths.
The pain was unbearable.
It hurt so badly that I was afraid I would not last until the ambulance arrived unless I did as it said.
But Chloe had only said, "I'm scared."
That was enough to wake him.
Then he went to her.
I turned my phone face down beside my pillow.
Tears finally slipped from the corners of my eyes.
My tears were not for Adam.
They were for the baby who had never had the chance to fully form.
The baby had been only ten weeks along.
It had been so small.
The baby was so small that I had yet to tell the world it existed.
Yet it had already shown me one undeniable truth.
Its father would never come to save us.