Chapter 1

Eight months pregnant, and there were only ten dollars left on my bank card.

My husband had set his whole paycheck on automatic transfer, every month, straight to his childhood sweetheart, Cara Finch.

He called it letting her manage the investments for him.

Severe anemia dropped me at the market. A stranger took pity and got me to the hospital.

The doctor wanted a five-thousand-dollar deposit to keep the baby.

I called my husband for help. He hung up, annoyed.

For the child inside me, I ran home and took the men's gold necklace he'd bought two days ago out of the drawer, and I pawned it.

I'd just made it back to the hospital with the cash that could save us when the officers closed in around me.

"Someone reported you for burglary."

My husband walked in behind them, looking at me with disgust in his eyes.

The young officer held the pawn receipt and hesitated. "This is your wife. She did it to pay the deposit to save the pregnancy. That's hardly burglary, is it?"

My husband kept his hands in his pockets, cold. "If she's broke, that's on her.

"Three years ago, when Cara was diagnosed with severe depression and couldn't even afford her medication,

"didn't she sit on Cara's settlement money and refuse to hand it over, and nearly drive Cara to slit her wrists?"

I looked at the disgust in his face and held out my hands, calm. "I stole it. Take me in and file the charges."

...

Patrick Fox stared at the cuffs on my wrists, his brows knotting together.

"What's with the pity act now?"

He jabbed a finger at my nose.

"You think if you turn yourself in, I'll go soft and drop the case?

"Winona Henson, you are so selfish.

"You only ever think about yourself. You never once care how anyone else feels.

"Cara's depression finally stabilized, and you have to go stealing right at this moment.

"Are you trying to make her think you turned to theft because of her?

"You're using a crime to guilt-trip her!"

I stared at Patrick as the dragging pain in my belly came in wave after wave.

I didn't even have the strength left to stand up straight.

"Patrick, I'm eight months pregnant."

I laid out the fact.

"There's ten dollars on my card.

"I didn't even have money for a cab to the hospital.

"I collapsed at the market. A stranger called 911.

"If I don't pay the deposit, the doctor won't give me the medication, and the baby won't make it.

"You gave every last dollar to Cara. Pawning your necklace was all I had left."

Patrick let out a scornful laugh.

"Don't use the baby to pressure me.

"So what if you're pregnant? Being pregnant puts you above the law?

"When Cara was sick back then, why didn't you have any sympathy for her, for a sick person?

"Everything you're suffering now, you brought on yourself.

"I let Cara handle my paycheck because she understands investing.

"You're a housewife. Put money in your hands and what do you do besides waste it?

"Besides, Cara needs money right now to feel secure.

"If I don't help her, am I supposed to just watch her die?"

Fast heels clicked outside the ER.

Cara came running in a Chanel couture outfit, an Hermès bag on her arm.

Her eyes were red-rimmed. She grabbed Patrick's arm.

"Patrick, don't blame Winona.

"It's all my fault.

"If I hadn't lost that bet today and made you transfer me fifty-two thousand,

"Winona wouldn't be short the hospital deposit.

"Hurry, tell the officers to let her go. She's still pregnant."

She turned to me, her voice gentle to the point of aching.

"Winona, don't be angry with Patrick.

"He just worries too much about me.

"You know I haven't been stable lately.

"Patrick's afraid something will happen to me, that's why he stays with me.

"The necklace you pawned, I don't blame you for it.

"I'll go pay the money for you right now."

As she said it, she pulled a stack of cash out of the Hermès bag.

Patrick slapped the money out of her hand.

Red bills scattered across the floor.

"Cara, you're just too kind."

At the ER triage desk, a nurse came running out with my blood report in her hands.