Justin bolted toward the door without a second's hesitation.
I called my assistant and told her to process my early discharge immediately.
"Back to the estate."
Time to claim what was mine.
When I appeared at the gates of the Wiley estate with that baby in my arms, the entire family erupted.
Grandparents from both sides, uncles, aunts—everyone swarmed around me.
"Oh, my precious great-grandson!"
Grandmother took the baby from my arms with trembling care, her face splitting into a smile so wide it seemed it might never close.
Grandfather was even more overcome. His hands shook as he looked at me, eyes brimming with approval.
"Serena, well done! You're the greatest contributor to our family!"
I became the family's hero.
Because I had given the four-generation Wiley household its first male heir of the fifth generation.
No one knew that my heart had already died in that cold hospital room, alongside the child I would never hold.
My father-in-law watched the nanny's car pull directly into the garage and frowned. "Where's Justin?"
"Busy, I suppose. I didn't see him at the hospital either."
The elders' rewards were staggering.
Grandfather gave me a seaside villa overlooking Victoria Wiley Harbor. He placed the keys on my nightstand himself.
Grandmother brought out her most treasured jade jewelry—set after set, so green they dazzled the eye.
My father-in-law transferred five percent of Wiley Group's shares into my name, making me the youngest member of the board overnight.
My mother-in-law was the most thoughtful. She gifted me a private island in the Maldives, saying I could go there to recuperate once I'd recovered.
I smiled and accepted everything.
I deserved all of it.
I had paid for it with my child's life.
No one knew that in the deepest corner of my walk-in closet, I had carved out a small space.
There were no designer bags there. No gowns.
Only a small memorial tablet, carved from sandalwood.
It bore no name.
Before it lay a pair of tiny knitted booties I had made with my own hands—booties I would never give to anyone now. And a few heartbreakingly small baby clothes.
Every night, when the house fell silent, I would lock myself in that closet.
I would hold that little tablet, running my fingers over its smooth surface again and again.
Baby, Mommy's here.
Baby, Grandma and Grandpa bought so many toys today. If you were here, you'd have them too.
Baby, do you blame Mommy? Mommy was useless. Mommy couldn't protect you...
I never cried aloud. I just let the tears slide down in silence, soaking into the wood I clutched against my chest.
There was a hole where my heart used to be—a wound that would never heal. Cold wind howled through it endlessly, and the pain made it impossible to breathe.
That was the secret that belonged only to me and my lost child.
Justin returned to the estate too, but he didn't dare come near me.
In front of the entire family, Grandfather jabbed his cane at him and called him a disgrace. I had just "given birth," he thundered, and not only had Justin failed to stay by my side—he'd upset me.
He was made to kneel in the family chapel all night.
He probably couldn't understand it. The Serena who had once loved him to the point of obsession, the one he'd had wrapped around his finger—how had she suddenly become this?
Occasionally, he would come to the bedroom to keep me company. But more often, he went to see the baby.
He would hold the child clumsily, feed him his bottle. And in his eyes, there was something unfamiliar—something that might have been called fatherly love.
One evening, he stood behind me for a long time. Then, finally, he spoke.
"Serena, about that night... I was wrong. I'd had too much to drink."
A pause.
"Davina... she just depends on me too much. Don't hold it against her."
