Adeline’s Pov
When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my ward.
The smell of disinfectant stung my nose, and my head throbbed. My body ached as if I’d been dragged across broken glass.
The doctor was standing beside my bed, writing something on my chart, his face pale and stiff.
“Mrs. Morales,” he said quietly, not looking at me, “if something like today happens again, you might lose your womb.”
I stared at him. My voice came out rough. “How much?”
He blinked. “Pardon?”
“How much did he pay you to steal my stem cells and kill my son?”
His pen froze mid-air. “Mrs. Morales, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“Don’t lie to me,” I said, my voice shaking. “You did it. You helped them. Now discharge me before I make you regret it.”
His shoulders sagged. Without another word, he handed me the papers. I signed them with trembling fingers.
“You should really stay a few more days,” he murmured.
“I’d rather die than spend another second here,” I said coldly.
He lowered his gaze. “Please… be careful, ma’am.”
I didn’t answer. I grabbed my things and walked out. My legs were weak, but my anger was stronger.
—
When I reached the mansion, the same one I gifted Ethan on our first wedding anniversary, my chest tightened.
I had chosen every color, every curtain, thinking this would be the home where our children grew up.
Now it felt like a grave.
I pushed the door open. Laughter spilled from the living room.
Clara was curled up on Ethan’s chest, her swollen feet in his hands as he massaged them gently.
A bitter laugh escaped me. I remembered asking Ethan once to massage my feet when I was seven months pregnant. He had thrown ten dollars on the table and said, “Ask a maid. I don’t do dirty jobs.”
Now he was doing that “dirty job” with a smile.
“You two look cozy,” I said, forcing a smile.
Ethan’s hand froze. He pulled away from Clara, his face tightening. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to stay in the hospital.”
“Why?” I asked quietly. “So you could keep pretending I don’t exist?”
He glared. “Don’t start. Clara is pregnant. You’re supposed to take care of her, not cause trouble.”
My throat burned. “You killed my child for her.”
“Enough!” he snapped. “If you weren’t so unstable, maybe your child would still be alive.”
The words slammed into me like a blade. I couldn’t breathe.
I turned away before he could see the tears in my eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gone soon.”
Upstairs, I stopped outside the nursery door.
It used to smell like baby powder. I had spent nights painting clouds on the ceiling, laughing as Ethan teased me for being too detailed.
Now the door was half-open. I pushed it wider and froze. Everything was gone. The crib, the stuffed toys, even the blue curtains I had sewn myself were all gone.
The walls had been painted pale pink, with a name I didn’t recognize written above the crib: “Baby Jared.”
My heart cracked. I stepped inside and saw my baby’s ultrasound photo on the floor, the glass shattered.
I knelt and reached for it. “My sweet boy…” I whispered.
A sharp heel pressed down on my hand. Pain seared through my skin as glass bit deep.
Clara’s voice came from behind me, sweet and cruel. “Oops. Did I step on something precious?”
I looked up at her, shaking. “What is wrong with you?”
She smiled. “Oh, don’t be mad. Ethan said I could take over this room since… well, you don’t need it anymore.”
My hand bled onto the floor. I stood, glaring at her. “You’re a monster.”
I stood up, cradling my bleeding hand and she gave me a mock pity look.
“Oh my, are you okay, Adeline? Why would you hurt yourself because of me? You could have just told me to leave the nursery room,” Clara said in a loud voice as she began sobbing.
“What are you saying?” I asked her in a confused voice.
“Omg, Adeline, stop hurting yourself!” she shrieked.
I was still staring at her confused when Ethan appeared in the doorway and saw me cradling my bleeding hand.
“What are you doing now?” he asked me in a bored voice.
“I didn't do anything. She's the one —”
But Clara interrupted me, “I’m the one who made her hurt herself, Ethan. She got upset that you asked me to take over the nursery.”
I stared at her, shocked, “But that's not what —”
“Enough!” Ethan snapped, “I don't want to hear your crazy stories, Adeline, I've tolerated your bullshit enough.”
Just then Clara picked up a customized diamond necklace, “Ooh, this is so pretty, I want it,” she said.
“No, that's my —” the words were hardly out of my lips when the necklace fell from her hand and broke.
I stared at the broken pieces of my baby’s customized diamond necklace picture, that was all I had of him left.
“Oops,” Clara whispered smugly.
I stared at the broken necklace pieces, the diamonds glittering under the light like tiny tears.
It was the only thing left of my son, a diamond necklace with his ultrasound etched inside a crystal pendant.
My breath caught. My knees hit the floor. “How could you? This is the only —”
“Adeline,” Ethan said, voice flat. “Don’t start again. Clara is pregnant. She can’t be stressed.”
Clara sniffled dramatically and clung to him. “I’m sorry, Ethan, I didn’t mean to upset her.”
He cupped her cheek tenderly, right there in front of me. “It’s not your fault, besides it’s just a necklace.”
Just a necklace? I had customized that necklace specifically for my son!
I pressed my bloody hand against the floor to steady myself, “It’s not just a necklace, Ethan! That was the last thing left of my son.”
Clara’s lips twitched, almost smiling behind his shoulder. “Poor thing, maybe she should get therapy, Ethan. She's been unstable since the accident,” she whispered, loud enough for me to hear.
“I don't need help, I just need you to stop taking what doesn't belong to you!” I snapped at Clara.
“Maybe Clara is right and you need therapy,” Ethan said.
Just as he finished speaking two bodyguards entered the room and held me.
“What is going on here? Let me go, Ethan!” I cried, struggling against the guards.
Ethan crossed his arms. “You’ve lost control again, Adeline. You need help.”
“I don’t need help! She’s lying!” I shouted, turning to him with tears in my eyes. “You can’t even see it, can you? She’s using you!”
Clara sniffled and wrapped her arms around her stomach. “Ethan, I’m scared. Please don’t let her near me. What if she hurts the baby next time?”
That did it. Ethan’s face hardened. “Enough. Take her to the hospital for therapy now.”
“Ethan, please—” I begged. “You’re sending your wife away because of her?”
He didn’t answer. He just turned his back and walked away, his hand resting protectively on Clara’s waist as if I were the danger.
The guards dragged me out while Clara’s trembling voice followed behind, mockingly.
“I’ll take good care of your husband while you get the help you need, Adeline.”
I screamed her name, but the door slammed shut before I could reach her.
