Chapter 3

Juliette Edwards POV:

Jake' s face went rigid. His charming, concerned demeanor dissolved, replaced by a flicker of confusion and something else... apprehension. He took a half-step towards me, then stopped, his eyes darting from my face to the phone in my hand.

"A mold?" He forced a laugh, but it sounded strained. "Honey, what are you talking about?"

"For the baby," I said, my tone light and airy, as if discussing the weather. "I want to remember this."

His gaze was fixed on me, searching, trying to decipher the sudden shift. He couldn't. He didn't know the real me, the one he had buried alive. He only knew the version he had created.

"We can do that later," he said, his voice a little too tight. "You' re tired. You' re not thinking clearly. I have that big meeting with the label tomorrow, remember? We can go together next week."

He was trying to postpone, to control the timeline.

"Oh, that' s right," I said, feigning a sudden realization. "Your work is so important. Of course, you can' t be there."

I smiled, a wide, beatific smile that didn' t reach my eyes. "Don' t worry about it, Jake. I can go by myself."

The relief that washed over his face was so profound it was almost comical. He thought he' d dodged a bullet.

He stepped forward and kissed my forehead, a gesture of patronizing affection. "That' s my girl. Always so understanding."

The next day was the day. The day I would sever the last chain binding me to them.

As Jake was leaving for his "big meeting," he paused at the door. He pressed a small, clumsily wrapped box into my hand.

"A little something to cheer you up," he said, his voice its usual smooth velvet.

I opened it. Inside, nestled on cheap cotton, was a silver locket. It was pretty enough, but I recognized it instantly. It was a stock piece from the hospital gift shop, the kind you buy as a last-minute afterthought. He probably picked it up yesterday while I was "recovering" on the bench.

A wave of cold, hard rage washed through me, so intense it almost made me dizzy. He was giving my sister diamonds bought with my soul, and he was giving me a ten-dollar trinket to keep me quiet.

I forced my lips into a grateful smile. "It' s beautiful. Thank you, Jake."

He beamed, pleased with himself. "I knew you' d love it. I' ll see you tonight, honey."

After he left, I decided to make one last stop. I drove to my parents' house, the sprawling suburban mansion my music had paid for. I parked down the street, my heart a steady, cold drum in my chest.

I walked up the stone pathway and stopped just before the front door. I could hear their voices through the slightly open living room window.

"She' s just being dramatic, Mom," Brittany was whining. "She always gets like this when I have a big event coming up. It' s like she can' t stand it when I' m the center of attention."

"I know, sweetheart, I know," my mother' s voice soothed. "Just be patient a little while longer. You know your sister. She always gives in for the good of the family. Remember when she let you have her spot at the music academy? This is no different. Once you have that award, and the baby comes, she' ll fall back in line."

My father sighed, a heavy, weary sound. "Linda, Brittany, please. Let' s just keep things calm until the gala is over. We can' t afford for Juliette to make a scene. If the Vanguard board finds out... or worse, if Jake gets spooked... this whole thing could fall apart."

Jake' s voice cut in, firm and reassuring. "Don' t worry, Mr. Edwards. Everything is under control. I was with her at the hospital this morning. The doctor confirmed the baby is perfectly healthy. We just have to wait until after the birth. Then, Juliette will have no choice but to stay with me, and I' ll make sure she continues to support Brittany, unconditionally."

My body went cold. It wasn' t just my fiancé and my sister. It was my entire family. A conspiracy of smiling faces, all united in the quiet, systematic destruction of my life.

I was not their daughter. I was their investment. A golden goose they kept locked in a cage, and this baby... this baby was to be the lock.

The locket in my pocket suddenly felt like a lead weight. My hand trembled as I pulled it out. It slipped through my numb fingers and clattered onto the stone steps, the cheap clasp breaking on impact. The box it came in tumbled out of my purse, scattering its tissue paper contents at my feet.

I turned and fled.

Back in my car, my phone buzzed. It was Jake. I let it ring. He called again. And again. Finally, a text came through.

Juliette, where are you? The housekeeper said she saw your things scattered on your parents' doorstep. Did something happen? Call me.

I ignored it. My phone rang again. This time, I answered, but said nothing, letting the silence stretch.

"Juliette? Thank God. Are you okay? Where are you?" His voice was laced with a frantic edge I' d never heard before. He was losing control.

In the background, I heard a calm, professional voice. A nurse.

"Ms. Edwards? If you could just sign the consent form here, we can begin the procedure."

The procedure to end my pregnancy.

There was a sharp intake of breath on Jake' s end of the line. A sound of pure, unadulterated shock.

"Procedure?" he choked out. "Juliette, what procedure? What are you doing? You can' t!"

His voice cracked with a panic that was finally, blessedly real. He had never been scared of losing me. He was scared of losing his leverage.

I looked at my phone screen, at his name flashing there.

Then, with a final, liberating press of my thumb, I ended the call and shut the phone off.