Chapter 3

Amelia POV

Harper pressed the glass to my lips, her eyes full of menace. "This is a strong 'calm-down' medication. You might feel a little stomach ache, but you'll sleep soundly. If you don't drink it, I have plenty of ways to make sure you won't stay in this hospital."

I looked at the cloudy liquid, and suddenly, everything became crystal clear in my mind.

If I drank this, my baby would die, but he would die whole. He wouldn't suffer the prolonged agony of being kept alive only to be cruelly murdered for his heart.

If I refused and gave birth, my child would face a fate far more cruel than death.

"Lord, forgive me," I murmured silently. "I am not the one holding the blade. I am merely... ceasing to struggle."

I looked up, my hands trembling as I took the glass.

"Alright," I whispered, "I'll drink it."

Under Harper's triumphant gaze, I tilted my head back and swallowed the bitter, pungent concoction in one gulp.

Harper clapped her hands softly, a satisfied smirk on her face. "Good girl. Sleep now. When you wake up, everything will be 'better.'"

She turned and left, the door clicking shut behind her.

I leaned back on the pillow, waiting for the judgment to come.

Harper, you, with your own hands, had destroyed Aurora's only lifeline.

The medication worked quickly, but it was potent.

At midnight, a thunderstorm raged over Manhattan. The thunder rattled the windowpanes, drowning out my heavy breathing.

A violent spasm seized me, my abdomen twisting and tearing, as if an invisible hand reached inside me, ripping everything to shreds.

I bit down hard, my teeth aching, cold sweat drenching my hospital gown.

The pain was clear, brutal, absolute. But I didn't utter a sound.

No operating table, no cold surgical instruments. Only the darkness of the VIP suite, and the slow draining of my life.

I curled up under the blankets, feeling a warm gush of fluid from my body.

Every time a life departs, a part of a mother's soul breaks.

I remembered Alexander's smile the first time he learned I was pregnant. I remembered the fragile, fake bubble of happiness I once lived in.

I'm sorry, my baby.

Mama couldn't protect you.

Mama only hoped you could leave this dirty world unharmed.

Better to return to God than to become a harvest for the wicked.

I don't know how long it was before the pain subsided, replaced by an empty, chilling loneliness.

Gathering my last strength, I dragged my exhausted body to the bathroom and cleaned up the evidence.

I gazed at my reflection in the mirror-my face pale as a ghost, my eyes dry, not a single tear trace, only a deathly silence.

It was over.

The "medicine" that could save Aurora was gone.

The next morning, Harper came to the hospital, ostensibly for rounds.

She dismissed the nurses and performed a quick examination.

Seeing the results, a triumphant smile played on her lips.

"Looks like you slept well," she said. "Some things are just not meant to last. Now, you're just a useless ex-wife."

She thought she had done Aurora a huge favor.

I looked at her, feigning the weak, helpless, heartbroken victim. I put on a terrified front, widening my eyes. "My stomach... why does it feel so empty..."

"Shh." Harper pressed a finger to my lips. "Keep your voice down. Unless you want Alexander to know you're too weak to carry his precious heir, then keep quiet. I'll tamper with the medical records. As long as you stay silent, no one will know for now."

To avoid a malpractice lawsuit or an investigation into illegal drugs, she offered to help me cover it up.

This was exactly what I wanted.

"Please." I clutched her sleeve, pretending to burst into tears. "Don't tell Alexander. He'll kill me."

"Hmph. You'd better leave the Pierce family soon."

She flung my hand away, strutting out of the room like a queen.

I watched her retreating back, a faint, cold smile playing on my lips.

Now, only one person in the world knew about my baby's death.

As long as Dr. Harper disappeared, this secret could be kept until I was ready to drop the bombshell.