Chapter 3
"Swallow it, Brinley!" Lady Hale hissed, tilting the foul-smelling abortion potion into my mouth. I thrashed wildly.
"What the hell are you doing to Brinley?!"
My husband, Finnick, strode into the room, his face dark with fury. He shoved the guards aside without hesitating and pulled me into his arms, hastily untying the thick ropes binding my wrists.
"I've got you," he whispered, pressing my trembling head against his chest. "You're safe now, Brinley. I'm right here."
Tears streamed down my face. I had secretly telegraphed him to rush back from his business trip, and he made it just in time. Finnick had always treated me well, always made sure I was cared for. He was my only lifeline in this suffocating manor.
Finnick gently set me behind him and turned his blazing eyes on his parents. "Mother! Father! What is wrong with you? Brinley is your daughter-in-law! You promised me you'd treat her like your own flesh and blood. Is this how you treat family?"
Lord and Lady Hale stood frozen, their faces stony. They didn't offer a single word of defense.
Finnick then spun around to glare at my own parents, who were cowering in the corner. "And you! You’re her biological parents! You just stood there and watched them torture your daughter? Do you even deserve to be called parents?"
Mr. Reed wiped his sweaty forehead. "Finnick, please... she’s pregnant."
"I don't care!" Finnick snapped. He bent down and scooped me up into his arms. "I'm taking her to our house in London. We're leaving."
A surge of relief washed over me. I buried my face in his neck. We were finally getting out of this nightmare.
But just as he took his first step toward the door, a harsh, grating sound ripped through the air.
Flap. Flap.
The one-eyed raven swooped down from the chandelier. It circled above our heads, its single, murky black eye fixed dead on my stomach. Then, its beak opened, and that terrifying, raspy human voice echoed through the room.
"Cast it out! Cast it out!"
I threw my hands over Finnick’s ears. "Don’t listen to it, honey! Please, ignore it! It’s just a stupid bird talking nonsense. Don't look at it!"
But it was too late. Finnick stopped dead in his tracks.
I felt his arms stiffen. He slowly pulled my hands away from his ears. His gaze drifted upward, locking onto the raven's eye. The warmth and furious protection in his eyes vanished, replaced by a dull, chilling emptiness.
"Finnick?" I whispered, my voice shaking. "Let's go."
He slowly set me back down on my feet.
"Brinley," he said, his voice flat and cold. "Abord the baby."
"What?" I stumbled back, staring at him as if he were a monster. "Finnick, do you even hear yourself? Do you know what you're saying?"
"This child must be aborted..." he repeated.
"No!" I screamed. I snatched the crumpled report from the floor and shoved it right into his chest. "Look at this! Read it, Finnick! It’s your flesh and blood! The doctor said the baby is perfectly healthy! Are you really going to let a damn bird tell you to kill our child?"
Finnick barely glanced at the paper. He swatted my hand away. "Nothing you say matters, Brinley. This baby cannot be born. Whether you like it or not, you are getting rid of it."
A hollow, broken laugh escaped my throat. The betrayal cut deeper than any knife.
"This is the third one, Finnick," I choked out, tears blinding me.
He frowned, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "What?"
"This is our third child!" I screamed, my voice tearing. "The first two? Your psychotic parents forced me to abort them, too! I went through hell, and you never even knew!"
Shock flashed in Finnick's eyes. He staggered back a step, clearly blindsided. He genuinely hadn't known. For a split second, I thought the revelation might snap him out of it.
But before he could speak, a vicious cramp ripped through my abdomen.
"Ah!" I collapsed to my knees, clutching my stomach. The sedatives and the few drops of the abortion potion I had swallowed were finally kicking in. A horrifying wet warmth spread between my thighs. I looked down. Bright, crimson blood was already staining the carpet.
The baby was gone.
I looked up through my blurry vision. Finnick, Lord Hale, Lady Hale, and my parents—all five of them visibly exhaled. Their shoulders dropped. They looked... relieved. Even the one-eyed raven stopped its frantic flapping and perched quietly on a chair.
Sophia, who had been hiding in the shadows all along, suddenly stepped forward with a warm towel. She handed it to Finnick with a perfectly practiced, sympathetic smile.
"Don't worry, Finnick," she said softly. "The poor dear is just overwhelmed with grief. I'll take good care of her."
The pain dragged me into absolute darkness.
The scraping of cold metal instruments. The blinding lights of the private clinic. I felt every agonizing second of the procedure. They scraped my womb clean, tearing the last remnants of my child from my body. I was wide awake, trapped in a silent hell of physical and mental agony.
When I finally opened my eyes again, I was lying in a dimly lit guest room. Finnick was slumped over the edge of the bed, fast asleep.
Disgust churned in my stomach. I carefully slid out of bed, my body aching and weak. I couldn't stay in this house another second. I had to sneak out.
I crept down the silent hallway, the floorboards cold against my bare feet. As I passed Lord Hale's private study, a faint sound stopped me in my tracks.
It was a low, rhythmic chanting. And then, the unmistakable croak of the raven.
Hatred and morbid curiosity pushed me forward. I pressed my eye against the slight crack in the heavy oak door.
The room was bathed in the eerie glow of dozens of black candles arranged in a complex, grotesque geometric circle on the floor. In the dead center of the array sat a large oil portrait of a young man—it's...!
In that chilling instant, I finally understood the terrifying truth—the real reason why everyone listened to that damn raven and forced me to abort my three children!
