Eight months pregnant, and someone shoved me from the top of the second-floor escalator. I remember the sickening lurch, the crack of bone, and then the blood, a warm, terrifying tide spreading beneath me. Ethan went insane. He scooped me up like I weighed nothing and stormed into the hospital, screaming for doctors. He flew in the best specialists, and by some miracle, they saved the baby. But when I woke up, the world was silent. The baby wasn't there. Ethan wasn't there. A raw panic clawed its way up my throat. I tore the IV from my arm and stumbled out of the room, my leg, wrapped in a cast, screaming with every limping step. I was searching, desperately, for my son, for my husband. And I found him. Outside the morgue. His voice, low and strained, carried through the sterile silence of the hallway. “Mr. Blackwood, the infant was still breathing. How could you just… smother him? He was your own son!” “He’s better off this way. A fresh start. He never should have been born in the first place.” Ethan’s voice was hollow, a stranger’s. “Chloe just had my son yesterday. I promised her our boy would be the sole Blackwood heir. I won’t have anyone else competing for his inheritance.” It was all a lie. The happy family, the loving marriage—a delusion I had built for myself. The life I thought was my sanctuary was just a beautifully constructed hell. If that’s the way it is, then I have to leave. 1 The doctor’s voice was hesitant. “But… you plan on passing Chloe’s baby off as your own. What if your wife finds out?” “Newborns all look the same,” Ethan dismissed. “She’ll never know. I’m taking him to her now.” There was a pause. “Get rid of the body. And I need that new drug your lab developed—the one that causes permanent sterility. I need you to give it to Ava.” The doctor was stunned. “Mr. Blackwood, you’ve already… you’ve already killed her child just to bring Chloe’s into your home. Now you want to sterilize her? Isn’t that too cruel?” A draft of icy air seeped from the morgue, but Ethan’s words were colder. “I promised Chloe I would never let our son feel threatened. That he’d never have to compete with siblings for my affection. Even though she’s married to someone else, I need her to feel secure.” The doctor’s tone was pleading. “Sir, I have to advise you, that drug is experimental. It hasn’t even reached clinical trials. The side effects are significant. Are you sure you want to do this?” Ethan sighed, a sound of weary martyrdom. “I have to. Ava’s waking up soon. A hysterectomy right now would make her suspicious. She’ll just have to bear it. I’ll make it up to her later, but I can’t risk her ever getting pregnant again.” Just then, his phone rang. He put it on speaker, and a man’s triumphant voice echoed in the hallway. “Mr. Blackwood, the five million came through. Don’t you worry, I’m leaving New York today. Your wife will never know it was you who paid me to push her down those stairs. Heh heh.” Footsteps sounded from inside. Ignoring the fire in my leg, I scrambled back to my room, collapsing onto the bed just as a wave of nausea hit me. The image of my son’s tiny, lifeless body in that cold steel room burned behind my eyes. I clutched my chest, silent tears soaking the bandages on my leg. It wasn’t an accident at the mall. It was an arrangement. Made by my dear husband, clearing the path for the woman he truly loved, and for their child. My baby wasn’t saved. He was murdered by his own father. In Ethan’s eyes, my son and I were nothing more than obstacles. “Ava, you’re awake.” Ethan walked in, cradling a newborn. He smiled, that familiar, handsome smile that had once been my world, and sat on the edge of my bed. “Look at our son, Ava. Doesn’t he look just like us?” He beamed. “Thank you, my love, for giving me such a beautiful boy. I swear I’m going to be the best father.” I stared at the sleeping infant in his arms, a sharp, physical pain piercing my heart. He was wrong. A mother knows. The baby had Ethan’s brow, yes. But the nose, the chin… they were Chloe’s, copied and pasted onto this tiny face. This was their child. And mine was just a cold body in the morgue. “Does your leg still hurt? Here, take some of these painkillers.” His eyes were filled with the same tender concern as always, but I saw it for what it was now: a mask. A lie to keep me sedated. I looked at the pills in his hand, his words from the hallway screaming in my head. “Ethan, they’re so bitter. Can I take them later?” You’ve already killed my child. Can’t you at least leave me the ability to have another? Please? He hesitated for only a second before stroking my hair. “You’re a mom now, you can’t act like a child. You’ve been through so much—the birth, your leg… I’ve been so worried I haven’t slept a wink. Ava, please, do it for me? I have to be strong for our little guy, you know?” He picked up a glass of water. “I put some honey in it, so it’s sweet. Come on, let me help you.” He’s not our little guy. He’s yours and Chloe’s. Ethan held the pills to my lips, leaving no room for refusal. The blood in my veins turned to ice. I closed my eyes and swallowed them dry, ignoring the honeyed water. I wanted nothing to do with his fake sweetness. The drug acted fast. A searing heat ignited in my lower abdomen, like liquid fire, like a knife carving me open from the inside. A gush of blood soaked through the sheets beneath me. “Ava? What’s wrong?” Ethan yelled for a doctor as the pain overwhelmed me and I blacked out. Through the fog of unconsciousness, I heard the doctor’s voice, distant and clinical. “Mr. Blackwood, her entire uterus has been corroded. She’ll never be able to conceive again.” I heard Ethan let out a long, slow sigh of relief. When I opened my eyes again, his were red-rimmed, his face a mask of anguish. “Ava… the doctors said you had a severe postpartum hemorrhage. You… you can’t have any more children.” He squeezed my hand, his voice thick with false sorrow. “Don’t be sad. We’re so lucky we have Leo. He’ll grow up and take such good care of his mother.” Leo? He’d already named Chloe’s son? Ethan waved away the nurse who came to clean me, insisting on doing it himself despite his well-known fastidiousness. He brought a basin of warm water and gently washed the blood from my skin. He told me his mother was so excited to meet her grandson that she’d already taken the baby back to the family estate. By the time he was finished, it was late. I looked at his tired face and managed a weak smile. “I’m okay. You’ve been up all day. You should get some rest.” He kissed my forehead. “Alright. Wake me if you need anything. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to get Leo. We’ll be a proper family.” I waited until his breathing was deep and even, then quietly reached for his phone. He’d always left it unlocked as a show of loyalty to me. But I never knew he had a dual operating system. The password to switch it was Chloe’s birthday. The screen flickered, and the wallpaper changed to a photo of him and Chloe in college, beaming. The messaging app had only one contact: Chloe. I opened it, and the first thing I saw was a picture of her, glowing, holding a newborn. “Ethan, look at our son. He’s so handsome. He’s going to be a heartbreaker, just like his daddy.” It was the same baby Ethan had brought to me hours earlier. The farther I scrolled up, the colder my heart became. During my eight months of pregnancy, Ethan was constantly “traveling for work.” The days he spent with me could be counted on two hands. I hadn’t wanted to be a burden, so I endured the morning sickness, the exhaustion, the endless doctor’s appointments, all alone. Now I knew. The “business trips” were just his excuse to be with Chloe, to care for her during her pregnancy. Thousands of photos documented every moment, from the first ultrasound to her delivery. Ethan cooking her special nutritional meals, Ethan walking with her in the park, Ethan shopping for baby clothes, Ethan even holding his hands out for her to be sick in during a bout of morning sickness. He was at her side for every single check-up, his gaze adoring, as if she were the most precious thing on earth. I remembered begging him, so many times, to help me pick a name for our son. His replies were always terse, delayed. “Ava, a name is just a label. We can pick anything. I’m busy, we’ll talk about it after he’s born.” But for Chloe’s child, he had composed a list of a hundred names before she was even showing. “Chloe, my love, what about Wyatt? It means brave and strong.” “Or maybe Theodore? A gift from God.” “You know what? Let’s just call him Leo. I don’t need him to conquer the world. I just want him to be safe, healthy, and live a long, happy life.” After every one of her check-ups, he’d bought her a gift. Not just flowers, but diamond bracelets, limited-edition sports cars. “A little celebration for my brave girl getting through another appointment.” He even bought her a castle in Europe as a “push present.” And what did I get? A text message. “That’s great, Ava. So proud of you. Have to run to a meeting.” The difference between being loved and not being loved was so stark, so brutal. My heart felt like a hollow, dead thing in my chest. I put down the phone and booked a one-way ticket to France, for three days from now. Then I lay back in the hospital bed and stared at the ceiling. My soul ached with a grief so vast, I didn’t sleep at all. The next morning, Ethan had his assistant deliver a gourmet meal, just as he always did. I used to be so touched by his thoughtfulness, that even when he was away, he was thinking of me. Now, picturing him in an apron, lovingly preparing meals for Chloe, I understood it was just a perfunctory gesture. Money is worthless when measured against genuine care. “Ava, why aren’t you eating?” Ethan asked, his brow furrowed with concern. “Is something wrong with the food?” “It’s nothing,” I said, my voice flat. “I just miss the baby.” Ethan’s face broke into a wide smile. “You miss Leo! Me too. I never understood it before, but now that I’m a father, I don’t want to be away from him for a single second. He’s the most incredible kid in the world.” He continued, oblivious. “Mom is over the moon. She’s having a little celebration at the house. We’ll go pick him up in a bit.” I said nothing. I was leaving soon anyway. Let him have his fantasy. When we arrived at the Blackwood estate in Greenwich, the scene in the living room stopped me cold. Ethan’s mother was cooing over Leo, while Chloe, looking radiant in a designer dress with not a trace of postpartum fatigue, sat beside her. His mother was spoon-feeding Chloe expensive bird’s nest soup. The royal treatment. Chloe spotted me and gave his mother a sly, saccharine smile. “Oh, Mrs. Blackwood, you shouldn’t spoil me like this. People will start to think I’m your daughter-in-law. Ava might get jealous. Her body is so weak right now, she should have this.” His mother’s eyes followed Chloe’s gaze to me. She scanned my outfit—the same clothes I’d been wearing the day I was pushed, the fabric still stiff with dried blood. Her face twisted in disgust. “Does my son not provide for you? Why are you dressed in such a cursed outfit? Are you trying to embarrass our family? Look at Chloe. You both just gave birth, but she’s a vision and you’re a mess. So dramatic.” She wasn’t done. “You couldn’t even keep yourself safe, running around while pregnant. How did you not die in that fall? It’s a miracle my grandson is okay, or I’d have made Ethan divorce you on the spot. And what’s this I hear about you taking medication while you’re supposed to be breastfeeding? If it weren’t for Chloe stepping in, my grandson would have starved because of your selfishness. I’m making it official: Chloe is my goddaughter. From now on, she’ll call me ‘Mom,’ just like Ethan does.” I knew his mother never liked me. She thought my family’s money was too new, that I wasn’t good enough for her son. Not like Chloe, his childhood friend, who was beautiful, charming, and from the right kind of family. She’d only tolerated me because of the baby. But even then, every encounter was laced with her barbs. Ethan used to defend me. He used to point out that it was he who had insisted we go to the mall that day, to buy gifts for the baby. But now, his eyes were locked on Chloe, a soft, undisguised tenderness in his gaze. Chloe, holding Leo, looped her arm through Ethan’s. “Did you hear that, Ethan?” she chirped. “Your mother has made me her goddaughter. My dear big brother, did you get your new little sister a welcome gift?” Ethan’s expression was a mixture of exasperation and adoration. He pinched her cheek playfully. “You’re such a brat. Don’t call me brother.” Despite his words, he had an assistant bring in ninety-two designer fur coats, each with perfectly matched accessories. “I know how much you love fashion, but you’re still recovering and can’t get a chill. There are ninety-two days in winter. One for every day.” Chloe squealed with delight and planted a kiss on his cheek, looking like a giddy teenager. “Wow! Some of these are from collections that won’t be out for three years! And all limited editions! You got them for me already? Ethan, you’re the best.” She shot a pointed look at me. “But with all these gifts… won’t Ava get upset?” Compared to the glossy, impossibly expensive coats, my blood-stained dress made me feel like a pathetic clown. Ethan froze, as if just remembering I was there. “Ava, it’s not what you think,” he stammered. “Chloe’s just used to how things are abroad, you know, they’re more… open with their affection.” “And the coats… I heard she just had a baby too, and her husband isn’t around. We grew up together, I was just trying to…” Before he could finish, Leo started to cry. Chloe’s eyes widened in fake surprise. “Oh my, is Leo hungry again? Mommy’s coming, sweetie, let’s go upstairs and get you some milk.” She didn’t forget to toss a faux-apologetic look my way. “Don’t get the wrong idea, Ava. It’s just a habit from soothing my own baby. Besides, Leo always seems to calm down when I say it.” She made a show of heading for the stairs, then stumbled dramatically into Ethan’s arms. “Ethan, I feel a little dizzy…” Instantly, he shoved me aside to steady her, his face etched with panic. “What’s wrong? It must be postpartum weakness. I told you to rest at the clinic. Come on, I’ll carry you.” My right leg was still in a cast. His push sent me sprawling to the floor, pain shooting up my limb like a lightning bolt. But Ethan didn’t spare me a single glance. In front of everyone, he swept Chloe into his arms, baby and all, and carried her up the stairs in a perfect princess carry. The remaining guests stared at me, their expressions a mix of pity and contempt. Their whispers were like knives. “No wonder Ethan spoils her. Chloe’s not just gorgeous, she’s kind enough to breastfeed another woman’s child. Not like that useless thing on the floor. Can’t even handle a little leg pain. So selfish, taking drugs when she should be nursing.” “She calls herself a mother? Chloe acts more like Leo’s mother than she does. She clearly cares for him more. And honestly, Leo looks a bit like Chloe, doesn't he? It’s like the baby himself is embarrassed by Ava. Chloe and Ethan were always the perfect couple. Such a shame they didn’t marry.” My mother-in-law, far from defending me, glared with even more hatred. “Are you just going to lie there like a stray dog? If you want to beg, go do it on the street. We don’t feed useless, pathetic women in this house.” Her voice dripped venom. “You can’t take care of your son, and you can’t hold onto your husband. And now you can’t even have more children? My son must have had a string of terrible past lives to end up with a wife like you. Get out of my sight. Looking at you shaves ten years off my life.” Humiliation washed over me. I thought of the divorce papers, already prepared on my phone. I said nothing. I pulled myself up and limped towards the upstairs study. I printed the papers, put them in my bag, and went to find Ethan in the guest room. But they weren’t there. Only a nanny, rocking a well-fed Leo. Confused, I heard… noises. Coming from the master bedroom. Our bedroom. The door was ajar. Through the crack, I saw Chloe, her robe hanging open, straddling Ethan. Her voice was a throaty purr. “Ethan… I have too much milk, and Leo’s such a little guy. It hurts…” she moaned. “I’m so uncomfortable. Can you… can you help me? Please?” Ethan hesitated. “Chloe, don’t. You just gave birth two days ago. It’s too soon. You already took a huge risk having my baby behind your husband’s back. I can’t hurt you again…” Chloe pressed his head down towards her breast. “Silly Ethan. I’m not afraid, why are you? Having your baby was my choice. My husband is never around, he doesn’t know a thing. Come on… take care of me. Aren’t you curious what it tastes like to make love to me like this?” He couldn’t resist any longer. He leaned in, his mouth covering her. The sounds from the room grew more obscene. A wave of sickness rose in my stomach. I couldn’t watch anymore. I fled, stumbling out of the house, out into the cold, clean air. The suffocating feeling in my chest eased slightly, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Ethan, you knew I was just downstairs. How could you? In our bed? I sat on the front steps, hollowed out, for I don’t know how long. Suddenly, a foul-smelling liquid drenched me from above. Chloe stood on the balcony, a triumphant, vicious smile on her face. “How does my son’s piss taste, Ava? And tell me, wasn’t Ethan a beautiful sight, so lost in pleasure with me?” She had wanted me to see. “Tsk, tsk. Look at you. Your son is dead, you have a broken leg… If I were you, I’d have killed myself already. What’s the point of living?” She was enjoying this. “You married him, you had his child, so what? He still smothered your son for me and mine. He still made sure you could never have another.” She held up her phone. “I even have a video of your son’s last moments. Want to see how his cute little face turned from red to purple? It’s quite the show.” My eyes were glued to the screen, watching my baby, my own child, suffocate. My entire body started to tremble uncontrollably. How could she speak of murdering a child so casually, so gleefully? I raised my hand, my palm stinging with the need to strike her. But in a flash, Chloe produced a small, sharp knife and dragged it across her own chest. Blood bloomed on her robe. The knife clattered to the ground. She let out a bloodcurdling scream. The next second, I was thrown to the ground. Ethan was there, cradling Chloe in his arms, his face a mask of fury as he turned on me. “Ava, are you out of your goddamn mind?!” Before I could speak, Chloe was sobbing. “Ethan, I was just worried she was upset about me nursing Leo… I wanted to explain… but she said I was trying to steal her baby… she said she was going to cut off my breasts so I could never feed him again!” She wailed. “I was just trying to help! I couldn’t bear to see Leo go hungry! How could she do this to me?” Ethan’s face was dark. “You’re the one who fell down the stairs, Ava. You broke your own leg. This is your fault. Why are you taking it out on Chloe?” His voice was a whip. “You’re not a fit mother. You took medication, you can’t feed your own child. Chloe helps you out of the goodness of her heart, and this is how you repay her? If you don’t care about your son, does that mean no one else is allowed to?!” Not a fit mother? I don’t care about my son? Tears streamed down my face. I screamed at him, all the pain and rage pouring out. “I’m not a good mother? What about you? Can you tell me why I fell down those stairs? Can you tell me where my real son is? And can you tell me what was in that medicine you gave me?!” Ethan frowned. “Leo is sleeping peacefully in his room, of course. And that medicine was for your leg pain. You know all of this.” His voice was cold, dismissive. “As for your fall, you were careless. There were dozens of people there. Why were you the only one who got pushed? You’re useless, and now you have the gall to attack Chloe? You’re a mother yourself. How could you hurt another mother? Apologize to her. Now.” He was right. Why was I the only one who got pushed? Looking at his self-righteous face, I started to laugh. A broken, hysterical sound. This was my husband. A liar. A murderer. I picked up the knife from the ground. With every ounce of strength I had left, I dragged it across my own chest, again and again, ten, fifteen times, until my dress was soaked through with my own blood. Ethan stared, horrified. “Ava, what are you doing?! Stop it!” I dropped the knife and looked at him, my voice eerily calm. “You’re right, Ethan. One shouldn’t hurt a mother. I am atoning to the woman you love. Is this sincere enough for you?” Then I turned and walked away. He saw the trail of my blood on the stone path, saw me stagger, and took a step towards me. But Chloe’s arms snaked around his neck. “Ethan, it hurts so much,” she whimpered. “Take me to the hospital, please? Our Leo can’t go hungry.” I saw the conflict in his eyes. For a moment, he hesitated. But in the end, he chose her. He lifted Chloe into his arms and walked in the opposite direction.
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