Chapter 2

The first few months of my new pregnancy were a fragile truce with my grief. Mark was attentive, doting even. He brought me special meals, made sure I was resting, and talked endlessly about our future, about the new baby who would heal our broken hearts. A part of me felt guilty, but another, more desperate part, clung to this new hope like a drowning woman to a piece of driftwood.

I was beginning to feel human again. The fog was lifting, replaced by the quiet anticipation of a new life growing inside me.

Five months into the pregnancy, I was organizing Mark' s home office. It was a task I used to do regularly, a small act of normalcy I was trying to reclaim. While filing away some old investment papers, a folder I didn' t recognize slipped from the back of the cabinet and fell to the floor, spilling its contents.

Most of it was boring corporate stuff, but one document caught my eye. It was a hospital form, an official-looking paper with the logo of the very hospital where Jessica' s son, Ethan, was being treated.

My hands trembled as I picked it up. It was a donor consent form.

My eyes scanned the page, my blood running cold. It authorized the donation of a healthy kidney. The recipient' s name was Ethan Miller. The donor' s name was Lily Miller.

And at the bottom of the page, in the space for the guardian' s signature, was Mark' s familiar, confident script. The date on the form was the day before Lily disappeared.

The air left my lungs. It couldn' t be. It was a mistake. A forgery. There had to be an explanation. My mind raced, trying to find a logical reason, any reason, for this paper to exist.

Mark was out for the evening, a late meeting with investors. His personal laptop was on his desk, unlocked. I had never invaded his privacy before. Our entire marriage was built on a foundation of trust. But that foundation had just been hit by a seismic shock.

With shaking fingers, I opened his messaging app. I didn' t know what I was looking for. I just had to know. I scrolled back, my heart pounding against my ribs, back to the weeks surrounding Lily' s disappearance.

I found a conversation thread with Jessica.

My breath hitched.

Jessica: Is it done? Did you talk to her?

Mark: She said no. Exactly as we predicted. She' s too sentimental. She' d never agree.

Jessica: So what now, Mark? My son is dying! You promised!

Mark: Relax. I have a plan. I told you I' d handle it. Lily will be fine, and Ethan will get his kidney. I just need to arrange the 'unfortunate accident' .

Jessica: An accident? What are you talking about?

Mark: It' s better if you don' t know the details. Just be ready. I' ve already signed the consent form. The doctors are on standby. Once Lily is 'found' , the donation can proceed discreetly. No one will connect it.

My vision blurred. The screen swam in front of me. I kept scrolling, my body numb with a horror so profound it felt unreal. The messages continued after Lily' s body was found.

Jessica: They found her. Oh my god, Mark, the news... they said she' s... it' s horrible.

Mark: It' s a tragedy, but it was necessary. The kidney was successfully transplanted. Ethan is stable. Focus on that. Sarah is a mess, but I' m managing her.

Jessica: Managing her? She' s your wife! She lost her daughter!

Mark: And we saved your son. A fair trade. Now, about the next step. Sarah is broken. She' ll do anything I say. I' m convincing her to have another child.

The next message made me drop the laptop. It clattered onto the desk, but I didn' t hear it. The only sound was a roaring in my ears.

Mark: We need a backup. An heir is one thing, but a spare is just as important. The family line needs security. If Ethan has another health crisis down the line, or if anyone else needs something... it' s better to have a reservoir. A new child will be our insurance policy.

Spare parts.

A reservoir.

Insurance policy.

The words echoed in the silent room, each one a hammer blow against the fragile shell of my sanity. The man who held me while I wept, the man who promised me justice, the man who whispered of a new baby to heal our pain... he was the monster.

He hadn' t just let our daughter die. He had orchestrated it. He had murdered her. He had harvested her organs for his nephew, and now he was trying to breed a replacement. A spare.

The love I believed in, the comfort I had clung to, the future I had started to hope for-it was all a lie. A cruel, elaborate, monstrous deception.

I stood there in the silent office, the donor form in one hand, the truth a gaping wound in my chest. I placed a hand on my belly, on the new life stirring within me. A life conceived in lies, intended to be nothing more than a collection of spare parts for a family I no longer recognized.

The grief for Lily was a familiar agony. But this new feeling, this betrayal, was something else entirely. It was a cold, sharp, and terrifyingly clear.

I heard the front door open downstairs.

"Sarah? Honey, I' m home."

His voice, once a source of comfort, was now the sound of my personal horror. He was still playing the part. The loving husband. He came up the stairs, his footsteps steady and sure. He walked into the office, a smile on his face.

"There you are. I was just thinking about you."

He moved to kiss me, but froze when he saw my face. He saw the form in my hand. His smile didn't just fade, it vanished, replaced by a flicker of something I' d never seen before, something cold and dangerous. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by a look of concern.

"Sarah? What is it? What' s wrong, my love?"

He was still acting. Even now. The performance was flawless.