Chapter 3

Teresa's POV

Max leaned against the car door, twirling Claire's white nurse cap around his finger. "Been waiting forever, little mouse." He grinned, revealing a row of yellow teeth. "We figured out Claire's little game hours ago."

I turned to run. A contraction hit me, and I collapsed on the grass.

Max walked over and grabbed my hair. "Just playing with you, to make you give up completely."

He dragged me back. My nails left bloody trails in the dirt.

The basement door was wide open. Claire was tied to a chair, tape over her mouth, her left eye swollen to a slit.

"Fucking traitor." Max released me and punched Claire in the face.

I heard something crack. Blood from Claire's nose splattered everywhere.

"No!" I lunged forward.

Max kicked me in the stomach. The pain exploded through me—I doubled over, retching.

"It's my fault!" I cried out. "Just hit me!"

Max stopped, panting as he stared at me. "Of course it's your fault." He pulled out his phone. "But the boss needs to know first."

The call connected. Speakerphone.

"How's it going?" I could hear hospital machines beeping behind Zachary's voice.

"Sir, Mrs. Kensington tried to escape." Max said. "She got the nurse to help her."

Three seconds of silence on the other end.

"As expected." Zachary sneered. "I knew she'd pull something. Did you give the injection?"

"One injection, but we need a second one, and this nurse won't cooperate."

"Then force her to do it." His voice went ice cold. "Valerie is five centimeters dilated. Teresa's baby absolutely cannot be born first. Understand?"

"But sir, Mrs. Kensington seems like she's really about to..."

"Max." Zachary interrupted him. "I'll say this one last time, follow the plan. That woman's always putting on an act."

The call ended.

Max put away his phone and took out a syringe from the medical kit. He walked to Claire and ripped the tape off her mouth.

"Give the injection. Now."

Claire spat blood at him. "You scum, how can you treat a pregnant woman like this!"

Max's face twisted instantly, his eyes narrowing to slits. He wiped the blood off his face, his breathing growing heavy. "What did you say?"

Claire didn't back down, though her hands were trembling. She raised her head and looked directly into his eyes. "You'll pay for this. That baby... she's innocent."

Max sneered, released his grip, stepped back, and drew his gun from his waist. "Brave little nurse, you think you're a hero?" He raised the gun, the muzzle pointed at her forehead.

Claire's face went deathly pale, but she didn't beg for mercy. She just closed her eyes and murmured, "I'm sorry... I tried my best."

My heart was hammering. I wanted to scream but couldn't make a sound. Everything went dead quiet, the smell of blood growing thicker.

The gunshot exploded in the basement.

My ears rang. Claire's body fell backward, a black hole in her forehead.

Blood splattered on my face. Warm.

I stared at her eyes. Those eyes that had shown me kindness were now blank.

Max wiped the blood that had splashed on his hand. "Troublesome." He muttered, bending down to pick up the syringe and walking toward me.

I shrank back, my back against the cold wall. "My baby... really can't hold on anymore..."

"Not my problem." He grabbed my arm.

When the needle pierced my skin, I pressed both palms to my belly and waited for a kick.

Nothing. The baby had gone still.

Max pulled out the needle and patted my face. "I'll be back in six hours. You'd better pray Miss Sloane delivers quickly."

He left. The iron door locked again.

I crawled to Claire's side. Her blood soaked through my knees. I held her cold hand.

"I'm sorry." My voice was hoarse. "I'm sorry..."

Another contraction came. This time very weak, like a receding wave. The belly under my hand stayed still.

The basement light flickered. Blood kept flowing from between my thighs—not amniotic fluid anymore, but blood.

I closed my eyes. My brother's face appeared in the darkness. If he knew what I was going through now...

I was getting weaker. I could feel myself dying.

Urgent footsteps sounded outside the iron door.

The door burst open. Max rushed in, a cigarette still hanging from his lip. He stopped dead at the sight of the blood.

"Mrs. Kensington?"

The cigarette fell. He dropped to his knees, slapped my cheek, pressed two fingers to my neck. "Hey. Hey! Don't you do this to me."

He grabbed his phone, his hands shaking too hard to dial.

I tried to smile at him. Too late, Max. Too late for all of us.

Everything went black, and I touched my belly one last time.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." I whispered. "Mommy couldn't let you... see the sun."

---

Zachary's POV

After Valerie gave birth, the nurse laid the newborn in my arms. "He looks just like you," I told Valerie. "So beautiful."

Then I paused. Something weird crossed my mind.

I wondered what Teresa's baby would look like.

If it was a girl, perhaps she'd look more like her.

She'd probably be even prettier.

Valerie was safe now, and so was her son. Nobody had any reason to keep Teresa waiting. I took out my phone to tell Max to bring her over, and it buzzed in my hand before I could dial. Max.

"Valerie delivered," I said. "You can bring Teresa over now."

Nothing. Only Max breathing, fast and ragged, like he'd been running.

"Max?"

"Sir." His voice cracked. "She's not acting."

I almost laughed. "Max, I told you..."

"She's not acting!" he roared. "She's not moving, there's blood everywhere! I need a doctor! Please!"

Behind his panting there was no sobbing, no pleading, not one word from her. For ten years I had called every one of her tears an act. I had no name for this silence.

"Sir?" Max was crying now. "Tell me what to do!"

My mouth was open. Nothing came out.

The newborn started to wail. I didn't hear it. I handed him back to the nurse, and I was already running.