Chapter 3

Instantly, a sharp, twisting spasm tore through my uterus.

It was suspicious again. It was warning me.

[Mommy, if I catch you sneaking around trying to harm me, I'm going to be very angry.]

The cadence of the voice was growing darker, dripping with malice. That wasn't the voice of an innocent unborn baby!

In that exact moment, my resolve hardened. I had to know what kind of abomination was growing inside my flesh!

Biting down on my lip to swallow the nausea, I dialed my manager.

"Mr. Davis, I need to call in sick today."

Next, I fired off a quick text to Charles.

[We need to talk in person. Today.]

After sending it, I flagged down a yellow cab and headed straight for the private hospital.

The entire ride there, the thing inside me barraged my mind with furious demands.

[Mommy! Where are you going?!]

[I'm your baby! Don't tell me you're trying to abandon me again?!]

Sharp, rhythmic stabs of pain radiated through my pelvis. Cold sweat dripped down my temples, but I locked my jaws tight and didn't make a sound.

I had to get answers.

I booked an emergency consultation on the hospital app during the ride. When Dr. Evans walked into the room and saw me drenched in sweat, as white as a sheet, she gasped.

"Mrs. Hayes! Good heavens, what happened to you?"

"Did you take the supplements? Is your morning sickness really this severe?"

Before I could form a syllable, a raging screech exploded behind my eyes.

[Mommy! Why are you seeing a doctor again?! I knew it! You really are trying to get rid of me!]

A violent, tearing contraction ripped through my abdomen. My knees buckled, and I crumpled onto the linoleum floor.

"Nurse, in here! Now!" Dr. Evans rushed over, helping me into an examination chair. "Mrs. Hayes, your body is having an extreme rejection reaction. I strongly urge you to reconsider this pregnancy. Your life comes first. You need to stabilize before you even think about—"

"No!" I gasped, clutching her arm with white-knuckled fingers. "The baby stays!"

"I came here for progesterone shots! I want this baby to survive, no matter what it takes!"

The moment the words rang through the clinic, the paralyzing pain stopped dead.

The voice softened instantly, sickeningly sweet again.

[Aw, Mommy... I guess I misunderstood you.]

[You better take good care of me, then. Because if I ever find out you don't want me... I'll be very, very upset.]

Dr. Evans hurried to set up the hormone injection.

Right before the nurse wheeled the tray over, I snatched a pen and a prescription pad from the desk, scribbling furiously:

[Perform an amniocentesis. I need a rush DNA test on this fetus.]

Dr. Evans's eyes widened in sheer confusion. She parted her lips to speak, but I slammed my hand over her mouth, shaking my head violently, my eyes wide with terror.

If the thing inside me heard, I wouldn't live to see the sunset.

Seeing the raw terror in my eyes, she gave a firm nod. Under the cover of administering the shots, she performed the fluid draw with silent precision.

Since the rush genetic analysis wouldn't be ready until the afternoon, I decided to go home first and confront Charles.

The moment I unlocked the front door, the muffled sounds of an argument echoed from the master bedroom.

I pushed the door open, catching Charles in the middle of hurriedly hanging up his phone.

Guilt flickered across his eyes, though he masked it almost instantly with his usual gentle demeanor.

"Lynn? Why are you back so early?" he asked, walking toward me. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

My mouth opened, ready to lay all my cards on the table.

Before a sound came out, the whisper hissed inside my head.

[Mommy, what are you going to say to Daddy?]

[Before you speak... why don't you check what's inside his suit jacket?]

An icy alarm bell rang in my mind.

Forcing a faint, tired smile, I looked at Charles. "Could you pour me a glass of warm water first? I'm exhausted. We'll talk in a minute."

"Of course."

The second Charles stepped into the hallway, I bolted toward his dry-cleaned suit draped over the vanity chair. My hand darted into the inner breast pocket.

My fingers brushed against delicate lace. I pulled it out—and froze.

It was a pair of unfamiliar, provocative women's underwear.

Before my brain could process the sight, the voice cackled triumphantly.

[See? I told you Daddy is cheating!]

[If his true love weren't barren, he would never have looked at you twice! What are you waiting for? Divorce him right now and raise me all on your own!]

[Mommy, I'm your baby. Would your own flesh and blood ever lie to you?]

Right at that exact second, my phone buzzed with an encrypted email from the private lab.

The DNA match report:

[Probability of Maternity: 99.99%.]