Chapter 2
Cordelia's POV
Dr. Evans’s pen froze midair. The two duty nurses turned, eyes wide with shock.
“Abortion?” Dr. Evans asked, double-checking. “Mrs. Mercer, you and your husband tried for three years to conceive. You were crying tears of joy just minutes ago when you heard the heartbeat.”
I gripped the thin medical report, my mind racing. In my past life, it was that insidious inner voice that bred paranoia, destroyed my marriage, killed my parents, and left me to die in a prison cell.
“The fetus is completely healthy,” Dr. Evans urged gently. “Don’t make a decision you’ll regret forever over a fight with your husband.”
My lips trembled. How could I explain that the life inside me wasn't a sweet child, but the mastermind behind my ruin? How could I tell him it was already manipulating my thoughts?
I placed a hand over my flat abdomen, feeling the faint pulse of the heartbeat. A six-week-old embryo couldn't speak. Those whispers in my past life must have been hallucinations born of my own mental breakdown. As long as I ignored them this time, tragedy wouldn't repeat itself.
In the end, my heart caved. I was keeping the baby.
Stepping out of the clinic, I pulled out my phone to call my parents, but my mother, Briar, called first.
“Cordelia, guess what!” Her voice bubbled with excitement. “Camille is five weeks pregnant!”
“That’s wonderful news,” I smiled, feeling a weight lift.
“You and Silas must come over for dinner tonight to celebrate,” Briar insisted.
In my past life, the voice claimed my brother and sister-in-law would steal my baby. But now that Camille had her own child, they had no reason to hurt me.
She’s faking it. They’re just letting your guard down, the dark whisper hissed inside my head.
I brushed it aside. “Mom, I’m pregnant too. Six weeks.”
A sudden silence fell over the line, followed by a ear-splitting squeal. In the background, my father, Gideon, chuckled. “Hold the phone back, Briar, I’d like to keep my hearing.”
“Dinner at the manor tonight!” Briar declared. “This is double the blessing!”
That evening, Silas and I drove to the Hawthorne manor. Camille handed me her ultrasound report—her name, the date, and the hospital stamp were all genuine.
“Congratulations, Cordelia,” she said softly, squeezing my hand.
“Congratulations to you too.”
The manor was filled with warmth. Briar bustled in the kitchen, Gideon poured drinks, and my brother, Julian, debated whether the babies should learn to ride horses or swim first. Everything felt real and genuine.
Leave now. They are all lying to you, the voice warned.
After dinner, I turned to Silas. “Go on home without me. I want to stay the night with Mom and Dad.”
Silas checked his watch and kissed my forehead. “Alright. I’ll pick you up in the morning.”
While the family cleared the table, I quietly slipped my parents' primary car keys into my coat pocket. The manor was fully staffed and stocked. As long as they didn’t drive, that fatal car crash wouldn't happen.
The next morning, a panicked call from the police shattered the quiet.
“Is this Cordelia Hawthorne? Your parents, Gideon and Briar, were involved in a severe crash on Oakridge Road. The brakes failed.”
I rushed to the hospital. Outside the ICU, Julian stood slumped against the wall, his eyes bloodshot.
“Mom wanted blueberry bagels from the bakery downtown for your breakfast,” Julian rasped. “They couldn't find their usual keys, so they took the old car from the back of the garage.”
My knees buckled.
I had hidden the keys. I had forced them into the death trap.
“It’s my fault...” I whispered, choking on air.
Silas arrived, pulling me into a tight embrace. “Look at me, Cordelia. It’s not your fault.”
“I took the keys,” I sobbed. “If I hadn't, they would be alive.”
Gideon and Briar never made it out of surgery. For days, I couldn't eat or sleep. Silas put his work on hold, staying by my side, forcing me to drink water and take my medicine.
In my past life, I let grief destroy me. Not this time.
A week later, I looked at Silas. “Put me to work at Mercer Group. I need to stay busy. I can be your secretary. Let me help you.”
He searched my eyes before nodding softly. “Don't push yourself too hard.”
At the office, I managed Silas’s schedules, emails, and contracts with meticulous care. Yet the haunting voice never stopped whispering its poison. Still, I knew Silas’s former secretary, Sarah, had been transferred out of state months ago. Everything was secure.
Until the day of the multi-million-dollar deal with Hollis Ashford. I was scheduled to bring the final contracts to the Ashford Hotel.
As I approached my car, the chilling voice struck again, targeting my deepest vulnerability:
Mommy, Daddy is at the Biltmore Hotel with Sarah right now. His kindness is just guilt for cheating! He thinks you’re a curse who killed your parents!
My mind knew it was a lie, but my body froze. Panic took over. I forced the driver to detour, stalling at a coffee shop for forty minutes to check the rumors.
By the time I arrived at the Ashford Hotel, Hollis and his legal team were already packing their bags.
Silas stood by the window, his gaze heavy and cold. “Where is the contract?”
“Right here,” I stammered, handing him the folder.
Hollis glanced at his watch, his tone icy. “This is a hundred-million-dollar deal, and you can’t even manage basic punctuality. The Mercer Group isn't worth our trust. The deal is off.”
“Please,” I pleaded, rushing after him. “It was my mistake. Give us one more chance.”
“Your chance is gone.”
The fallout was instant. Rumors tore through the company.
“She relied on being the CEO’s wife and ruined six months of hard work.”
“Any other employee would have been fired on the spot.”
In the closed board room, Silas slammed the contract onto the table. The warmth in his eyes was gone. “Why were you late?”
I couldn't answer. I couldn't tell him I had sabotaged the deal over a fake affair.
“I thought I had time,” I rasped.
“You thought?” His voice was dangerously quiet. “You said you wanted to share my burden. But you’ve been careless, distant, and paranoid. You never trusted me, and you never gave a damn about this company.”
He slid a document across the polished oak table.
“My patience is gone. Sign it.”
The bold words DIVORCE AGREEMENT burned into my retinas.
I had tried so hard to avoid every trap from my past, yet my parents were dead, the deal was destroyed, and my marriage was ending. It felt as if no matter how hard I fought, I was simply filling in the blanks of a pre-written tragedy.
