"Roll up your sleeve, Flora. They need a pint right now."
My adoptive mother, Evelyn, blocked the hospital room door. Her eyes were red, her makeup smeared across her cheeks.
"I am not giving her my blood," I said, gripping my purse strap.
My adoptive father, Richard, stepped forward. "Amanda has a rare hematological disorder. The bank is completely empty. You are a perfect match."
"Did you ask her why she collapsed?" I asked, scanning their frantic faces. "Did she mention she was naked in my bed with Barry three hours ago?"
Evelyn waved her hand dismissively. "That was a misunderstanding. She was frightened. The stress triggered her condition."
"A misunderstanding?" I laughed sharply. "Are you blind?"
"Keep your voice down," Richard scolded, glancing down the sterile white hallway.
"She slept with my husband," I stated, making sure every word rang loud and clear. "And you want me to save her?"
"She has fifty percent of your DNA, Evelyn," I continued. "Why don't you donate?"
"My blood type isn't a match," Evelyn cried. "You know that. You are the universal donor. You are the only one who can do this right now."
"And if I say no?" I challenged.
"Then you are a murderer," Richard stated coldly.
Tears spilled over Evelyn’s cheeks. She grabbed my wrist, her nails digging into my skin. "She is our biological daughter! You are just a child we raised. You owe us this!"
The words slapped me. The final thread of my loyalty snapped.
I ripped my arm away. "I owe you nothing."
"Leave her alone, Evelyn."
Barry emerged from Amanda's room. He wore the same wrinkled jeans from this afternoon. He looked exhausted, running a hand through his messy hair.
"Barry," I muttered, my stomach twisting.
He stepped into my space, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "Flora, I know you hate me right now. But save her life. This is the last time I will ever beg you for anything."
"You have no right to ask me for favors," I said.
"If you don't do this, she might die," he pressed, stepping closer.
A sudden wave of nausea slammed into my chest. Bile rose in the back of my throat. I pressed a hand to my stomach, fighting a sharp, agonizing cramp.
My vision blurred for a fraction of a second. A pulling sensation gripped my lower abdomen. I swayed on my feet, grabbing the edge of the nurse's station counter to steady myself. The metallic smell of the hospital suddenly made me want to vomit.
"Don't touch me," I gasped, backing away from him.
"Flora, stop being so selfish," Richard snapped.
"You want blood?" I glared at the three of them, ignoring the pain radiating through my abdomen. "Find another donor. I'm done with this family."
I shoved past Barry and marched toward the elevators.
"You'll regret this!" Evelyn screamed after me.
I refused to look back.
***
I returned to the house I once shared with Barry. I dragged my suitcase from the closet and began throwing clothes inside. I needed to leave town. I needed to protect my baby.
My phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. An unknown number flashed on the screen.
I answered it, resting the device against my ear. "Hello?"
"Is this Flora Gaines?" a gruff voice asked.
"Yes. Who is this?"
"This is Officer Miller. I'm calling about your husband, Barry Gaines."
"We are separating," I replied flatly. "Call his phone."
"Ma'am, we are unable to do that. His car went off the coastal highway twenty minutes ago."
I stopped folding my sweater. "What?"
"The vehicle broke through the guardrail and plunged directly into the ocean," the officer explained, his tone strictly professional.
"Is he in the hospital?" I asked, my voice trembling.
"The current is too strong. The dive team found the wreckage, but the driver's seat was empty. We haven't recovered a body."
"Is there any chance he got out?" I asked.
"The driver's side window was smashed," Miller said. "But the water temperature is near freezing. The drop was over two hundred feet. Even if he escaped the vehicle, he wouldn't survive the swim to shore."
"I don't understand."
"We presume he didn't survive the impact, Mrs. Gaines. I am very sorry."
The line went dead.
The phone slipped from my fingers. It shattered against the hardwood floor.
I dropped to my knees. The room spun around me. My hand found the crumpled pregnancy report in my jacket pocket.
*We are having a baby.*
Tears blurred my vision. I sobbed, clutching the jagged paper to my chest. He betrayed me. He lied to me. And now he was gone forever.
I curled into a ball on the floor, weeping until my lungs burned.
***
Three days later, rain tapped against a sea of black umbrellas.
The memorial service was held on a damp, gray morning. Since there was no body, a closed, empty casket sat at the front of the cemetery plot.
Evelyn and Richard stood near the front row. Amanda sat in a wheelchair beside them, dabbing her eyes with a lace handkerchief.
I stood at the very edge of the gathering, keeping my distance.
"You shouldn't be here," a voice hissed.
I turned. Evelyn glared at me from under her umbrella.
"I am still his wife," I replied, keeping my tone even.
"You don't get to mourn him," Evelyn whispered, stepping into my personal space.
"Step away from me, Evelyn."
"You drove him to his death," she hissed. "Amanda is in that chair because of you. Barry is in an empty grave because of you."
"Barry is in an empty grave because he couldn't keep his pants on," I shot back.
Evelyn raised her hand as if to slap me.
"Do it," I dared her. "Hit me in front of the priest."
She lowered her hand, her eyes burning with hatred. "You are dead to us, Flora."
Officer Miller approached us, interrupting the confrontation. He tipped his hat to my adoptive mother before turning to me.
"Mrs. Gaines, we officially called off the search this morning," Miller said.
"So he's really gone," I whispered.
"The coast guard found his jacket washed up on the shore. I'm sorry for your loss."
He handed me a clear plastic evidence bag. Inside sat Barry's silver watch. The glass face was cracked.
I took the bag, my fingers numb. "Thank you, Officer."
Miller walked away, and Evelyn scoffed in disgust before returning to Amanda's side.
The priest began his final prayer. The crowd bowed their heads.
I turned away from the grave. I refused to listen to another word. I needed to leave this place and start over.
I walked down the muddy path toward the cemetery gates. The fog rolled thick across the tombstones.
I paused to adjust my coat.
Through the mist, a figure stood near the wrought-iron entrance.
Tall. Broad shoulders. A dark trench coat.
He stood perfectly still, watching the funeral from afar, half-hidden by a massive oak tree.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
The posture. The tilt of his head. The way his hands rested in his pockets.
I took a step forward. My lungs seized.
The man turned his head slightly, revealing his profile.
I froze.
I dropped the plastic evidence bag.
Barry's watch hit the mud.
The man turned and walked into the fog.
"Barry!" I screamed.
