Chapter 4

Days later, I was home, in the sterile luxury of the house Ethan and I shared.

Recovering. That' s what they called it.

Ethan was attentive, almost smothering, always with "Anson" nearby.

But his eyes were different. Shifty.

His phone calls were hushed, taken in other rooms.

My suspicions, born in that cold hospital hallway, grew stronger each day.

I needed proof.

I waited until Ethan was out for a "critical Innovatech meeting."

His home office. He always kept it locked.

But I knew where he kept the spare key.

Inside, the room was minimalist, expensive, just like him.

His computer sat on the large desk. Password protected.

I tried our anniversary. No. My birthday. No.

Then, a cold thought. Jessica.

I remembered overhearing her name in college, a passing mention of her birthday.

I typed it in.

Access granted.

My breath hitched.

A hidden encrypted folder. The password for that?

Her birthdate again. It worked.

The contents spilled onto the screen, a digital testament to his double life.

Thousands of photos.

Ethan and Jessica.

Intimate. Laughing. Kissing.

Throughout my pregnancy.

While I was sick with morning sickness, he was with her.

While I was choosing nursery colors, he was choosing her.

Records of lavish gifts.

A down payment on a luxury condo for Jessica.

Designer clothes, jewelry.

Messages.

Meticulous planning.

"Our son will be the true Hayes heir."

"Sarah will be taken care of. She won't be a problem."

"The timing for the gala incident needs to be perfect."

The gala incident.

My fall wasn't an accident.

I scrolled further.

A deleted email chain with a private investigator.

An invoice. Payment for "causing a distraction at the gala."

A distraction. That' s what my fall, my premature labor, my baby' s vulnerability, was to him.

A distraction.

The pieces clicked into place, forming a horrifying picture of calculated cruelty.

My grief was a raw, open wound.

The love I' d felt for Ethan curdled into a cold, hard knot of fury in my stomach.

He hadn't just betrayed me. He had tried to destroy me, body and soul.

He had murdered our child.

The "weak" baby he'd discarded.

My baby.

I saved everything to a secure cloud drive, then meticulously covered my tracks on his computer.

He would never know I knew.

Not yet.