Chapter 7

I collapsed in the snow. My body had finally given up.

A bodyguard's voice crackled over Cole's phone. "Sir, she's passed out."

"Throw some water on her," Cole's voice was flat, emotionless. "She needs to keep kneeling until dawn. She's faking it. She won't die that easily."

A bucket of ice-cold water shocked me back to consciousness. I coughed, my lungs on fire.

My body was a universe of pain, but the sky had not yet lightened. I had to hold on. I had an appointment to keep at the funeral home.

Inside, in a warm, private room, Karma was weeping softly in Cole' s arms.

"Our baby is gone," she whimpered. "But we can have another one, Cole. I promise."

He stroked her hair, his voice a low promise of vengeance. "You won' t have suffered for nothing, Karma. I' ll make her pay."

Karma' s crying intensified. "What' s the point? I have no status, no child. I' m nothing."

"Don' t say that," he cut her off.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and hopeful. "Cole... when she' s gone... can I be your wife?"

He was silent for a beat too long.

The bodyguard called again. "Sir, she's passed out again. We can't wake her up."

Cole's brow furrowed. He walked out of the room.

He looked down at my still form, covered in a thin layer of snow. My face was blue, my lips purple. The torn white dress was frozen to my skin.

"Get a doctor," he snapped at the guards. "Just make sure she doesn't die. She hasn't been punished enough."

He believed I was a spoiled princess who needed to be taught a lesson. He believed he was delivering justice for Karma and their lost child.

He turned and walked back to Karma's room without a backward glance.

Karma grabbed his arm as he entered. "Cole, what about my compensation?"

He looked at her, distracted. "What do you want?"

"I want her," Karma said, her voice a low hiss, "to bury our child at sea with her own hands. I want her to live with that guilt for the rest of her miserable life."

Cole was startled by the venom in her request, but he looked at her pale, tear-streaked face and nodded. "Fine."

I was woken by the sharp sting of a needle. Then I was being dragged, my feet barely touching the ground, onto a yacht.

A small, heavy urn was pressed into my numb hands.

Cole stood beside me, a cold statue. Karma was bundled in a thick coat, looking pale and fragile. The boat sped out into the open ocean.

"Do it," Cole ordered when the shoreline was a distant smudge.

I took a deep breath and walked to the edge of the deck. The yacht rocked, and I swayed, my body too weak to find its balance.

I looked at the urn. It was absurd. This whole thing was a dark, twisted joke. My life, a tragedy penned by a malicious fool. I wondered if my parents were watching, laughing at their pathetic daughter.

Karma came up beside me. "Feels good, doesn't it? To hold the ashes of the baby you murdered."

I ignored her.

I lifted the lid of the urn.

In a flash, Karma slammed into me.

The urn flew from my hands, tumbling into the waves and disappearing instantly.

"My baby!" she shrieked, making a show of trying to jump in after it.

Cole lunged forward and pulled her back into his arms.

He turned on me, his eyes blazing. "You did that on purpose!"

I looked at him, at the man I had loved more than life itself, and I started to laugh. A wild, broken sound.

"You're so blind," I gasped, the laughter turning into a cough. "She's been playing you from the very beginning."

"I did it on purpose," I said, my voice suddenly strong. "What are you going to do about it?"

He was holding Karma, their bodies pressed together in a public display of their affair.

"You're going to get it back," he snarled.

"I can't," I said, shaking my head. "It's gone."

"Then you'll jump in and find it!" he roared.

I looked into his eyes, searching for any flicker of the man I once knew. There was nothing. Just a cold, empty rage.

"Okay," I said calmly.

I stepped over the railing and, without a moment's hesitation, I threw myself into the churning, grey Pacific.

The icy water was a shock, a final, brutal baptism. It swallowed me whole.

Cole stared, his face a mask of disbelief. He rushed to the railing, his hands gripping the cold metal. "Eleanor!"

He couldn't believe it. He never thought I'd actually do it.

"Cole, I feel faint," Karma moaned, collapsing against him.

He hesitated for a split second, his gaze torn between me and her. Her feigned weakness won.

"Get a team in the water!" he yelled at the crew, his voice strained. "Find her!"

He turned his back on the ocean where I was sinking. "She's a strong swimmer. She'll be fine," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Get us back to the shore. Now. And have an ambulance ready."

The yacht turned, speeding away.

I let myself sink. The fight was over. The cold was a comfort, a blanket pulling me into a deep, dark sleep.

My mind was quiet. The sea burial didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered.

I was finally free.