Chapter 3

Maren's POV

"Elias, look at this report!" I tore free from his grasp and shoved the torn ultrasound paper hard into his chest. "Juno is kicking me! She's a living child! Read the words!"

But Elias didn't look down. He just stared at me with exhausted, desperate eyes.

"Enough, Maren." Sloane marched over in her heels, abruptly pulling Elias behind her. She turned around, and with a volume loud enough for the whole hallway to hear, she coldly declared, "How much longer are you going to torture this family before you quit?"

"Who am I torturing? I'm just trying to prove my child—"

"You've turned everyone's life into a living hell!" Sloane's voice peaked. "Ever since the stillbirth two years ago, you've gone totally insane! You scream in the middle of the night, smash things, get paranoid, and treat your whole family as imaginary enemies! And Elias?"

Sloane aggressively pointed at the man behind her. "He tolerates you, takes care of you, gave up so many long-haul routes just to stay with you! Even when you faked an entire non-existent pregnancy, he still made excuses for you! Are you determined to drive him to an early grave before you're satisfied?"

I stared at my righteous sister in utter disbelief.

At that exact moment, Elias conveniently lowered his head. He rubbed his face, and in front of everyone, his eyes instantly welled up.

"Maren, I really can't take this anymore..." Elias painfully tugged at his pilot tie. "These past few months, you've screamed at me every single night, called me useless, and even hysterically cursed my family's genetics, saying we can't produce healthy children... I swear I've given you my whole heart, but I really... I don't know how else to save you."

Genetic defects? Hysterical cursing?

"What kind of garbage are you spouting?! When did I ever say that?!" I roared hoarsely, shaking uncontrollably. "Elias, why are you lying?!"

"Jesus, this woman is a total psycho," someone in the crowd muttered in disgust.

"That poor guy, stuck with a crazy wife."

"Clearly she's the one with the mental issues, yet she spreads rumors abusing her husband. She's been psychologically torturing him, hasn't she?"

"Classic emotional abuse. Look at her paranoid face!"

Several bystanders who had just looked at me with pity were now stepping back, sizing me up with contempt and guarded eyes.

"That's not how it is! Listen to me—" I desperately reached out to grab a nurse nearby, wanting to defend myself.

"Ah—!"

A fierce, blunt pain pierced my lower abdomen without warning. My legs gave out, and I dropped to my knees with a heavy thud against the cold tiles.

Immediately after, a rush of warm liquid gushed down my inner thighs, instantly forming a puddle on the floor.

"My water... my water just broke!" I clutched my stomach tightly, simultaneously gripped by ecstasy and pure terror. I lifted my head and screamed for help at the crowd in the corridor. "Even if my medical records are fake, you all saw this water with your own eyes! I'm going into labor! Save my baby!"

The hallway was deadly silent.

Dozens of eyes stared down at the puddle, but not a single person stepped forward. No stretchers, no emergency calls, no one even bent down to offer a hand.

Dr. Beckett walked slowly from the back of the crowd, glanced down at the floor, and spoke in a flat monotone: "Stress-induced urinary incontinence caused by extreme sensory hyperarousal. Patients with pseudocyesis often have this somatic manifestation when stimulated. Call the psych orderlies. Prepare the sedatives."

"This isn't incontinence! It's amniotic fluid!" I grabbed Dr. Beckett's lab coat like a madwoman. "Feel my stomach! I'm having contractions! She's dropping down!"

"Hopeless." A few bystanders shook their heads and scattered. "She actually brainwashed herself to this extent."

Just then, the elevator doors dinged open.

"Maren Linden!"

A furious, ashamed shout exploded. My father, Conrad, stormed out of the elevator, followed closely by my mother, Rosalind, who was weeping into her hands.

"Dad! Mom! Help me, I'm really about to—" I reached out to them like grabbing a final lifeline.

A heavy slap struck the left side of my face.

It hit so hard my ears rang, instantly blurring my vision. Cupping my cheek, I stared blankly at my father—a man who had been a judge his whole life, always priding himself on fairness.

"You've thoroughly disgraced the Linden family!" Conrad pointed directly at my nose, his finger shaking with rage. "So many top-tier doctors here have proven that you're not pregnant, and you still want to throw a tantrum in public?!"

"Dad! This is your real granddaughter in my belly!" I held my swollen cheek, the taste of blood spreading in my mouth. "Mom, touch me! You've had children, you know whether this is incontinence or not!"

Rosalind looked away, pressing a handkerchief tight against her mouth: "Take her away... the illness has destroyed her."

Several burly hospital guards charged forward under Conrad's tacit approval. Cold restraint straps tightly bound my wrists. They dragged me toward the psych ward doors like pulling a soulless corpse.

"Let me go! Elias—save me!"

I struggled frantically in absolute despair, my screams tearing through the corridor. But my beloved husband only left me with a pained, turned back.

During this deadly struggle, I forcefully twisted my head around.

Through a gap in the crowd, Sloane stood quietly in the back.

Watching me writhe in agony on the floor, stripped of my reputation, the last trace of feigned pity completely vanished from her eyes. The corners of her mouth were slowly curling up into a bone-chilling, triumphant smirk.

All the overlapping details of my past life, the scandals of the Devereux family, Sloane's subtle hints after the cocktail party last month... all the seemingly absurd clues suddenly clicked into a perfect, closed loop.

I finally understood exactly what was happening!