"What did you say? What did you hear?"
Bianca's gaze darted to my shoes by the door. Neatly aligned. Undisturbed.
Relief flooded through me. Every night when I snuck out to scavenge for food, I went barefoot to silence my footsteps. That small habit had just saved me.
Her eyes lingered on my face for a few seconds before a satisfied smile crept across her lips.
"Fine. Get some sleep."
She turned and left. Only then did I let the breath hiss from my lungs.
The next morning, I woke with a singular purpose.
"Baby, today we're going to see Grandpa and Grandma," I whispered, stroking my abdomen.
A flutter rippled through my womb—a tiny movement of agreement.
I walked into the living room, but Bianca was already there, blocking my path with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Katherine, it's time for your prenatal checkup. I'll drive you."
I shook my head, stepping back. "No need. I can go myself."
"Don't be ridiculous." She snatched my bag from my hand. "Damien insists. You're heavy with his child—it's unsafe for you to be alone. Besides, he's swamped with work. You shouldn't bother him."
I yanked my bag back, forcing my expression to stay flat.
"I'm not going to the doctor today. I'm visiting the Crawford estate."
Bianca's smile cracked. Her eyes narrowed into slits.
"Going to see them? For what? To snitch? Tell them Damien and I are bullying you?" She stepped closer, voice dripping with malice. "Katherine, do you really think they'll believe you over their own son?"
Her words struck a nerve. A chill ran down my spine.
She was right. My in-laws loved me, but Damien was their flesh and blood.
We'd been married over a year. To the outside world, Damien Crawford was considerate and gentle. Behind closed doors, he was a glacier—cold, unyielding, cruel.
If I claimed my husband was trying to harm me and poison his unborn child without evidence, I wouldn't just sound desperate. I'd sound insane.
Bianca saw the hesitation in my eyes and smirked.
"If we told everyone you had persecutory delusions... locked you in a psych ward... who would stop us?"
I froze. She wasn't just threatening me—she was terrified I'd expose her.
I shoved past her. "You're delusional. I just miss them. Move."
"I won't!"
Her hand flipped over. A glint of silver—a long needle, aimed straight at my belly.
Mom! Dodge!
The baby's scream pierced my mind. Adrenaline surged, and I threw myself left.
Bianca lunged at empty air, momentum carrying her forward. But her reflexes were fast—as she stumbled, her free hand snagged my collar and yanked hard.
Gravity took over. We tumbled down the stairs in a tangle of limbs.
"Ah!"
My back slammed against the steps. Pain blinded me for a second.
My hands flew to cover my stomach. Please, let the baby be safe.
Bianca groaned beneath me—I'd landed on top of her. The impact forced a hiss through her teeth.
"Get off me!" she shrieked, shoving me away.
She scrambled to stand, ready to lunge again, but her leg buckled. Twisted ankle.
The tiny voice echoed in my head again.
Mom, act hurt! Hurry! Dad's coming...
I didn't hesitate. I curled into a fetal position, clutching my stomach, face twisted in agony.
"It hurts... God, it hurts..."
Tires screeched in the driveway. Damien had just parked. Seeing us sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, he sprinted inside.
"What the hell happened?"
Bianca palmed the needle, hiding it. Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked up at him—the picture of fragility.
"Damien... Katherine slipped... It's my fault, I tried to catch her but I wasn't strong enough..."
Damien looked down at me, curled on the floor, gasping in pain. He frowned, but there was no warmth in his eyes. Only annoyance.
"Get her to the hospital," he said flatly. "We can't afford to lose the heir."
At the hospital, nurses rushed me into the examination room.
Dr. Hayes studied my chart, then looked at me, brow furrowing.
"Mrs. Crawford, why are you so thin? The fetus is two weeks behind in development."
