She was unconscious for three full days.
When Zara finally woke up, the first thing she saw were Conrad’s bloodshot eyes. He stared at her, guilt flashing in his expression. “The baby’s gone, but we can have another. You’re still young. It was an accident…”
“What baby?” she asked.
A look of pain crossed his face. As she opened her mouth to say more, the realization suddenly hit her—her period was over a month late.
She didn’t even know she’d been pregnant.
Now, the weight of grief crashed down on her. Zara clutched her stomach and sobbed, “I’m so sorry, baby….”
“Don’t mourn it. It’s just a baby. If you lost it, that means it wasn’t developing right. No big deal, I’ll give you another one.”
As Conrad spoke, Zara bit her lip hard, tears spilling down her cheeks.
So to him, this baby was either faulty… or never meant to exist?
She was about to say something when Conrad’s phone rang.
“Mr. Fowler, my chest hurts so bad… can you come now?” Wrena’s weak voice came through.
“What? Your chest hurt? Wait, I’m on my way!”
Conrad hung up, only then realizing Zara had heard everything.
His expression shifted slightly, but all he said was, “You’re too emotional right now. I’ll visit you again another day.”
As he turned to leave, Zara couldn’t hold back anymore. “Conrad, our child just died and you’re running to her?”
He didn’t answer. But his silence said it all.
He left without hesitation.
Three days later, Zara invited a well-known priest to perform a blessing for her lost child. After the ritual, the priest sighed heavily.
“Miss, the child has passed. Let the living carry on.”
Zara stood under the Wishing Tree, hugging the small urn of ashes.
The tree was covered in red ribbons, each one with a wish written on it.
“I hope the one I love stays with me forever — Conrad.”
“I hope Zara always stays happy and carefree — Conrad.”
“I hope Zara gives me a child soon — Conrad.”
All those wishes written in a strong strike, like the writer meant every words. Wishes that once meant everything to him—now shattered by his own hand.
Zara climbed a ladder and took the ribbons down, one by one.
Rain started falling in a light drizzle.
As she was about to climb down, Wrena suddenly appeared.
“This child was born dead. It’s a jinx. Let me help you get rid of it,” Wrena said calmly.
“Don’t—”
The urn slipped and shattered on the stone path. Ash scattered between the cracks.
Zara dropped to her knees, trying to gather the remains with her fingers, but it was pointless.
She broke down in tears. She couldn’t even tell if it was rain or her own sobbing anymore.
When she finally stood, she slapped Wrena across the face.
“You did that on purpose!”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wrena said innocently. “I was only trying to help.”
At that moment, Conrad arrived.
He instinctively moved toward Zara, but Wrena quickly grabbed his arm. “Mr. Fowler, I’m so clumsy—I dropped the urn by accident and she hit me. She also said… even if she died, she’d never have another child with you…”
Conrad froze.
“Was that true, Zara?”
It was clearly just another one of Wrena’s tricks, but instead of denying it, Zara said,
“Yes. I’ll never have another child with you.”
“Zara Dandrige!” Conrad shouted, veins bulging at his temple. “I thought after the earthquake you would’ve calmed down. But if you’re going to keep acting like this, I’ll just send you abroad to cool off!”
He gave the order and no one dared defy it.
In the end, all Zara could gather was a tiny amount of ash.
That afternoon, she placed two ornate boxes on the nightstand—one with their divorce papers and one with what remained of their child.
After that, she took her suitcase and walked out. Just as she reached the front door, Conrad showed up.
“Eager to leave? Good. Go clear your head. Come back when you’ve calmed down,” he said coldly. “
“I’ll drive you.”
She was about to refuse when his phone rang again.
“What? But I paid off all your debts—there’s no reason for them to come after you! Okay, calm down, Wrena. I’m on my way.”
He shot Zara a long glance, then left in a hurry.
Conrad gave her a sharp glance and walked away.
That glance said it all.
It was goodbye.
Zara tore up the plane ticket he’d arranged for her and hailed a cab to the airport.
Her parents were waiting there, ready to welcome her home.
Meanwhile, Conrad couldn’t shake the unease creeping over him. As the flight time approached, he turned to his assistant.
“Has her plane taken off yet? Go check.”
A moment later, the assistant’s face turned pale.
“Sir… the plane she was on—it just crashed in a typhoon!”
