Chapter 3

When the heavy front doors suddenly burst open, the noisy living room went dead silent. My parents stormed into the foyer.

Before they could even ask what was going on, half a dozen guests started talking over each other, desperately recounting Julian’s insane attempt to force an abortion on me.

Mom dropped gifts she was holding and pulled me into an immediate, fierce embrace.

Dad’s jaw clamped tight. The veins in his neck bulging, he marched straight toward Julian, raising a hand to strike him.

"Richard." Julian didn’t even flinch. Without a second's hesitation, he slapped the crumpled genetic report flat against Dad’s chest. "Before you judge me, read it yourself."

"Dad, don't look at it!" I screamed.

But his eyes had already dropped to the page. In mere seconds, the esteemed authority on genetics seemingly stopped breathing. The angry flush in his face drained into a sickly, chalky white.

He didn’t question Julian. He didn’t say a single word. He just turned stiffly and closed the distance between us in three long strides.

A devastating backhand sent me crashing straight to the hardwood floor.

"You shameless little whore," Dad spat, his voice pure ice. He drew his leg back and aimed a vicious kick squarely at my stomach. "Julian is trying to save us all by getting rid of that Thing!"

"Stop it!" Mom shrieked, throwing herself into the fray and shoving Dad back hard. She immediately shielded me with her own body, glaring furiously at the two men. "What the hell is wrong with you both? Eleanor is pregnant!"

"Mom, save my baby..." I sobbed, frantically clutching fistfuls of her designer blouse. "Dr. Genevieve said the baby is perfectly fine!"

"How dare you talk back!" Dad roared at me.

"Shh, I know, baby. Mom's here," she soothed, gently wiping a smear of blood from the corner of my mouth. She turned her furious glare onto Julian. "I don't care what you forged on that piece of paper. Absolutely nothing is going to make me abandon my daughter. Show it to me!"

"No! Mom, please!" I scrambled to grab it, but she had already snatched the document from Julian's hand.

"I’ve survived in this industry for thirty years. I’ve seen every birth defect in the book. There is no result I can't handle."

But the moment her eyes scanned the text, the fierce maternal warmth in her gaze froze solid.

She didn't resort to violence like Dad. Instead, she slowly stood up, brushing the invisible dust off her skirt with a look of profound disgust, as if just touching me had infected her with a terminal disease.

"Mom?" I looked up at her in raw desperation.

"Julian is right." She swept a dead, emotionless gaze over the whispering crowd of guests. Her voice was terrifyingly flat. "Call the transport van around. Out the back door."

The transport van. A chill clawed at my chest. They had a vehicle prepped and waiting.

Julian and Dad swooped in instantly. They grabbed me by the arms, one on each side, violently hoisting me up from the floor.

"Help! They're going to kill me!" I thrashed wildly, kicking and screaming. My desperate hands hooked onto the edge of the long gift table. The linen tablecloth ripped away, sending a cascade of expensive glassware tumbling to the floor in a deafening crash.

A few male guests stepped forward to intervene. But Julian snapped his head toward them, barking a lethal warning. "Stay out of this! She suffers from severe psychosis. As her husband and a licensed medical professional, I am declaring her an extreme violent threat to herself!"

Hearing that medical decree, combined with the unquestionable arrogance of the Blackwood family, the guests hesitated. They backed down.

Just before they dragged me out, police strobes cut through the floor-to-ceiling glass.

"Let her go. Now."

Two police officers stepped through the doors, their hands already resting on their holstered Tasers.

Startled, Julian instinctively loosened his grip. I tore myself free, scrambling on my hands and knees to hide behind the officers. I grabbed fistfuls of the male cop's uniform, completely driven by animal panic.

"Help me! Please!" I wailed hysterically. "They're trying to kidnap me! They want to force me to get an abortion!"

The male officer looked down at me, clearly overwhelmed and skeptical of my frantic breakdown.

"Officers, I am Dr. Blackwood. This is a family medical emergency," Dad stepped forward, gesturing to the opulent surroundings as he lied with terrifying ease. "Our daughter suffers from severe delusions. She recently went off her medication. We are simply trying to transport her to a secure clinic."

The male cop took in the lavish mansion and the calm, immaculately dressed doctors. He let out a long sigh and pulled out his notepad. "Alright, Doctor. Let's try to keep domestic disputes inside the house, okay? Don't make a scene on the street."

A suffocating weight of absolute despair crushed my ribs. He bought it. They were going to hand me right back to these monsters.

"Hold on a second, Mark."

The female officer suddenly stepped forward. Her name tag read Laurel Vickers. Entirely unfazed by Dad's aura of authority, her sharp eyes locked onto the swelling, bright red handprint blazing across my cheek.

"A psychotic break?" Officer Vickers said, her voice dripping with ice. She rested her hand on her baton, shooting a lethal glare at my family. "Then why did you physically assault her?"

Like a drowning woman grasping a lifeline, I violently pointed at Dad. "It was him! And Julian was dragging me across the floor! If you don't believe me, pull the security footage from the living room cameras!"

At the word "cameras," a genuine flicker of panic finally cracked my parents' composed facades.

Vickers didn't wait for permission. She marched straight into the house to locate the security feed. Less than five minutes later, she stormed back into the foyer, her face thunderous.

"Attempting to force a miscarriage on a pregnant woman is a massive felony," Vickers practically snarled. She pointed directly at the crumpled paper still clutched in Julian's white-knuckled grip. "Hand over whatever you're hiding. Now."

Under the crushing weight of a police threat, Julian reluctantly surrendered the report. Officer Vickers snatched it and handed it directly to me.

My hands were shaking violently as I slowly smoothed out the deeply creased page.

My eyes tracked down the document, finally landing on the printed medical conclusion at the bottom.

In that instant, the breath completely left my lungs.

I finally understood. I understood exactly why every single person I loved was so utterly desperate to see my baby dead.