The needle pierced her skin, and tears streamed down Marianne's face, but she didn't make a sound.
"You silly girl, if it hurts, just cry," Dr. Obrien said softly, her voice tinged with worry.
Marianne even managed to smile. "It's fine. It doesn't hurt. As long as I can have the baby, I'll endure anything."
But that wasn't true; Marianne was terrified—terrified of everything.
She was afraid that Kennedy's promises wouldn't hold. Afraid she wouldn't be able to get pregnant. Afraid she'd never return to the career she loved. Afraid Suzanne would keep haunting her like a shadow.
But no one protected her.
When she said she wanted to end the pregnancy, Dr. Obrien almost lost her mind. She texted Kennedy over and over, begging him to take care of Marianne and to treat her better. She told him how much Marianne had been through to get pregnant.
But there was not a single reply from Kennedy.
And then, the baby was gone.
Marianne lay curled up in bed, trembling like a wet, abandoned puppy. She burned with fever, mumbling, "Baby… my baby…"
"Mr. Cohen, you haven't eaten all day. Should I bring you…?"
Gene Cohen raised a hand, silencing his assistant. The man quickly left, leaving him alone in the hospital room.
Huo sat beside Marianne, gently brushing her face.
"Anne, it's my fault," he whispered. "I was too late."
"Why did you lie to me? You said you were doing fine."
"Anne, I missed you so much. Do you even know?"
Across town, Kennedy wasn't doing much better. He'd broken his leg on set, and if someone hadn't shoved a cushion under him at the last second, it could've been worse.
"Uncle Ken, you're finally awake!"
Suzanne clung to his hand, her eyes red and swollen from crying.
Kennedy slowly pulled his hand away and glanced around the room.
There was Suzanne, his manager, reporters, doctors— even some nosy patients poking their heads in.
But Marianne wasn't there.
"I fell so hard. Who's come to see me?" he asked.
"Everyone's here, Uncle Ken! We've all been waiting for you. Who are you looking for?"
"No one," he said, closing his eyes to hide his disappointment.
Marianne used to care so much. If he got a scrape on set, she'd freak out, crying as she cleaned the wound.
"Kennedy, stop doing these dangerous stunts, okay?" she'd beg.
And he'd laugh, ruffling her hair. "If I don't work, who's going to support you? Who's going to support our baby?"
Those moments felt so close, yet now they were gone in the blink of an eye.
His leg was broken, and where was she? Why didn't she come to check on him?
Kennedy pressed his lips together, his gaze falling to his bare wrist. He remembered how Marianne had saved up for months to buy him a rugged survival bracelet, insisting it would keep him safe.
When he'd jumped from that building during the stunt, the bracelet snapped and was gone just like everything else.
Suzanne leaned closer, breaking his thoughts. "Uncle Ken, stop worrying! I've got good news. Our sponsor agreed to let me keep acting!"
Kennedy barely reacted. "Mm."
"And guess what?" she continued eagerly. "They even gave the show more money and made me the lead! Though… I did see Aunt Marianne getting into his car the other day. I wonder if…"
The second she mentioned Marianne's name, Kennedy's face darkened. His fists clenched so tightly that veins popped, his eyes turning bloodshot.
Suzanne froze, her voice trailing off.
Kennedy didn't need to say what was in his head. Everyone in the room could already guess.
