Chapter 8

Eleanor POV:

The hospital corridor stretched endlessly before me, sterile and indifferent. Each step was a monumental effort, my body still weak and aching from the forced blood donation. I clung to the wall, my vision blurred, my head pounding. But I had to leave. I couldn't stay a moment longer in that place, in that reality.

As I reached the main exit, pushing open the heavy glass doors, a figure emerged from the shadows. Harlow. She stood there, flanked by two hulking bodyguards, a triumphant smirk on her face. In her hand, she clutched a small, ornate box. My babies' amber-encased remains.

"Leaving so soon, Eleanor?" she purred, her voice dripping with mock concern. "Trying to run away from your problems? Again?"

My blood ran cold. "Move, Harlow," I rasped, my voice hoarse. "I don't have time for your games."

She laughed, a sharp, brittle sound. "Oh, but this is my favorite game. Watching you flounder. Watching you lose everything." She gestured to the box. "Joshua sent me to collect these. He said you wouldn't mind. After all, they're just... genetic material now, aren't they? No longer relevant to you."

She opened the box, casually tipping its contents onto the sterile hospital floor. The eight tiny, amber-colored forms tumbled out, scattering across the tiles like discarded trinkets.

My breath hitched. "No! You monster!" I tried to lunge forward, but my weakened body betrayed me. I stumbled, my knees buckling. The bodyguards stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

Harlow watched me, her eyes gleaming with a sick satisfaction. Then, with a casual flick of her wrist, she kicked one of the tiny specimens, sending it skittering across the floor. "Such a waste, really. All that potential, just... gone."

"You wicked, vile creature!" I screamed, tears of rage and despair streaming down my face. "How could you be so cruel?"

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "Because I hated you, Eleanor. I always hated you. Benjamin adopting you, giving you everything... while my weak, pathetic mother could barely keep us fed. You were always the golden child, the princess. And I was always in your shadow. But not anymore. Now, I have Joshua. I have his child. And you... you have nothing. Not even the right to mourn your own children."

Her words were a poisoned arrow, aimed straight at my heart. But my heart was already a stone.

"You're a fool, Harlow," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed fury. "You have no idea what you've done. What Joshua has done."

She merely laughed. "Oh, I know exactly what we've done. And it was all worth it. Every single one of your little... accidents. It was all for my baby. My perfect, healthy baby." She looked at the bodyguards. "Get rid of these. And make sure Eleanor sees. Send her a clear message."

One of the bodyguards produced a small, leather bag. He began to gather up the tiny specimens, dropping them casually into the bag like pebbles.

"No!" I shrieked, struggling against the other bodyguard, who held me in an iron grip. "Stop! Don't you dare touch them!"

Harlow's smile was pure evil. "Oh, but I dare. And you'll watch every second of it. Because you deserve to feel the pain you inflicted on me, for simply existing." She stepped closer, her breath hot on my ear. "And you know what else, Eleanor? That 'fall' you took on the patio? That wasn't an accident. I made sure you landed just right. Just hard enough to ensure your womb would be permanently damaged. Just hard enough to end your pathetic dreams of motherhood. Consider it a gift, from sister to sister."

My blood froze. She had engineered that too. The final blow. The ultimate act of malice.

My body went limp, a sudden, horrifying realization dawning on me. There was no bottom to their depravity.

"No, no, no," I whimpered, tears blurring my vision. My children. My lost, innocent children. Now, they were being discarded. Like trash.

"Please," I sobbed, sinking to my knees, my voice breaking. "Please, don't do this. Let me bury them. Let me say goodbye."

Harlow scoffed, kicking one of the tiny forms with the tip of her designer shoe. "Why? So you can continue to wallow in your self-pity? No. You need to move on. You need to forget. Just like Joshua forgot you." She paused, her eyes narrowing. "Unless... unless you want a lesson. A real lesson in humility. Beg me, Eleanor. Beg for their scraps. And prove you're as worthless as I always knew you were."

The words were a direct assault on my last shred of dignity. But my children. My babies. I would do anything.

I swallowed hard, the taste of ashes in my mouth. I looked at the tiny, amber forms, then at Harlow's sneering face. I took a deep breath, the air burning my lungs.

Then, slowly, deliberately, I lowered my head. And I knelt before her.

My forehead touched the cold, hard floor. Once. Twice. Three times. Each impact sent a jolt of pain through my skull, but I welcomed it. It was nothing compared to the agony in my heart.

"Please, Harlow," I whispered, my voice thick with humiliation and despair. "Please. Just let me bury them. I beg you."

Harlow laughed, a triumphant, mocking sound. "What a pathetic sight. The great Eleanor Wheeler, reduced to begging." She nudged me with her foot. "Get up, you worm. Your begging means nothing to me. Your children are gone. Just like you will be. Forever." She turned to the bodyguard. "Take these to the incinerator. And make sure the dogs get a good meal beforehand."

My head snapped up, my eyes wide with terror. "No! Don't you dare! You can't!" I scrambled to my feet, a new surge of desperate strength coursing through me. "They're my babies! My flesh and blood! You can't just... destroy them!"

The bodyguard, a hulking man with cold, dead eyes, simply shrugged. He tightened his grip on the bag.

I lunged at him, a wild, primal scream tearing from my throat. I would not let them do this. I would not let them erase my children.

But he was too strong. He backhanded me, sending me sprawling to the floor. My head hit the ground with a sickening thud. The world spun.

Just then, the hospital doors burst open again. Joshua. He stood there, his eyes scanning the scene, his face a mask of confusion.

Harlow, seeing her cue, immediately burst into fresh tears, clutching her stomach. "Joshua! Thank God you're here! She's completely lost it! She attacked me! She tried to hurt our baby!"

The bodyguard quickly interjected, "She was trying to steal Mrs. Hunt's... personal belongings, sir. We had to restrain her."

Joshua's eyes narrowed, fixed on me, lying crumpled on the floor, my face streaked with tears and dirt. His gaze was filled with a chilling blend of disgust and contempt. "Eleanor. What is wrong with you? Are you really so desperate that you'd resort to this?" He looked at the discarded box, then back at me. "You are truly a disgrace."

"Joshua, please! She's lying! She's destroying our children's remains!" I sobbed, pointing at the bag in the bodyguard's hand.

He merely scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. Those are just... medical waste. You're a sick woman, Eleanor. Get her out of here. And make sure she never comes back." He turned to the bodyguards. "Take her. To the old water prison. Let her cool off. Let her think about what she's done. And make sure she understands what happens when she crosses me."

My blood ran cold. The water prison. An abandoned, forgotten facility owned by his family, rumored to be a place of unspeakable horrors. A place where people disappeared.

Fear, raw and primal, finally pierced through my rage. I tried to scream, to fight, but my body was too weak. The bodyguards hauled me to my feet, dragging me out of the hospital, past the horrified stares of the few onlookers.

Joshua stood there, his arm around Harlow, who was now smiling, a triumphant, malicious gleam in her eyes. "Oh, Joshua," she cooed, "you're so strong. You always know how to handle her."

I met her gaze, my eyes burning with a silent promise. This isn't the end, Harlow. This is just the beginning.

They dragged me through the cold night, away from the sterile hospital, away from any hope of rescue. My body was battered, my spirit broken. But deep within, a tiny spark of defiance flickered. I would survive this. And I would make them pay. For everything. For my children. For my future. For my very soul.

The last thing I remember was the suffocating darkness of a cold, damp cell, the sound of dripping water echoing in the silence. And then, merciful unconsciousness.