"Of course it's mine. Got it right the first time too, not like you—"
Burton didn't bother explaining how the two of them could have a baby. He just gave the order, his voice thick with distaste.
"Go to the kitchen and make Lorraine some chicken soup to warm her up. She caught a chill today."
I didn't move.
He glared at me for a solid minute, and once he was sure I wasn't going to budge, he turned and went into the kitchen himself.
I stared at his back, too stunned to speak.
Back when he doted on me most, he'd said he would only ever cook for me, no one else, for the rest of his life.
Even his mother had never tasted anything he made.
And now Lorraine could get him into the kitchen with his own two hands.
I pulled my gaze away and let the corner of my mouth curve.
Then I reached to stop the video recording on my phone.
Whether or not the baby was Burton's, everything I'd just captured was enough to leave him with nothing in the settlement.
Lorraine suddenly leaned in and held her pregnancy test up in front of me.
The date on it was three days before my miscarriage.
In that instant I knew for certain: she'd spilled that bowl of soup at my feet on purpose.
Before I could say a word, she smiled and put her lips close to my ear.
"Really, ma'am, how useless can you be? You couldn't even hold on to your own baby."
"If you had any sense, you'd actually divorce Mr. Gilbert and step aside. Instead of sitting there taking up a spot you can't even fill."
I knew what she was waiting for. She wanted me to blow up, to put my hands on her.
Then she could play the martyr.
But I swallowed my anger and stayed still.
I needed this baby, to turn Burton into a joke.
"I'm not interested in playing along with either of you. Get him to sign and you get what you want. Otherwise I don't mind letting him know you made me lose my baby on purpose."
She saw I was recording and didn't panic at all. If anything, she looked smug.
"As if you could ever bring yourself to divorce him. Playing hard to get works on Mr. Gilbert, but not on me."
"Go on, guess. Do you think he'll believe you, or me?"
Then she deliberately threw herself backward onto the floor, crying out at me.
"Ma'am, I was only begging you not to put those private photos of me online. Why would you shove me?"
Burton heard her scream and came bolting out of the kitchen.
Lorraine, meanwhile, crawled to her knees in front of me and broke into sobs.
"Ma'am, please, I'm begging you—"
Burton rushed to help her up, checking her over from head to toe.
Then he turned to me, his eyes full of fury.
"Rebecca! Have you lost your mind? Give me your phone!"
I watched the two of them, one performing, one shielding her, and my voice came out calm to the point of frightening.
"If you say so."
Only then did Burton notice something was off with me, and his tone eased.
"What did you record?"
The moment I took out my phone, Lorraine pulled free of his arms, choking on her tears.
"Ma'am, is it because you don't want the baby in my belly that you tried to hurt me?"
Burton snatched my phone and smashed it hard against the floor.
"Rebecca! This child is going to call you Mommy one day. How could you raise a hand against your own child? Just because it isn't yours by blood?"
The screen went black in an instant.
But Lorraine still wasn't satisfied. She suddenly stood up and ran for the door.
"Since you don't want it, I'll go get rid of it right now!"
She didn't even make it out the door before she fell.
That was when I noticed a small slick of oil by the doorway, though I couldn't say when it had gotten there.
Lorraine clutched her stomach and cried out.
"Why is the floor so slippery here—"
Burton saw the oil too, and his head snapped toward me as he roared.
"Rebecca! How can you be this vicious? How many times do I have to say it? That day Lorraine spilled the soup because the bowl was too hot, it was an accident!"
Something smug flickered in Lorraine's eyes as she gripped her belly and sucked in a sharp breath.
"Ah, my stomach hurts so much—"
Sick with worry, Burton scooped her up and headed straight for the hospital.
Before he left, he didn't forget to say to me, coldly:
"You'd better pray Lorraine and the baby are fine."
"Or I won't let this go."
I stood where I was.
Looking at the phone screen shattered to pieces on the floor.
And suddenly I laughed out loud.
He was right. My baby was gone, and I shouldn't let him or Lorraine off the hook.
I took the dead, cracked phone in to be repaired, and thank God, all the data could be recovered.
The lawyer watched the video and said it was enough to leave Burton with nothing in the settlement.
And to file charges against Lorraine for intentional injury.
"Then I'll leave it to you, Lawyer Lambert."
My phone buzzed. It was Randolph reaching out.
"Do you really intend to spend your whole life scraping by with a bastard son?"
