Chapter 4

The phone hit the floor. I pressed a hand to my chest, gasping through the twisting pain.

I shoved the pills into my mouth and rushed to the hospital.

Only when I got there did I learn who the so-called severe-burn patient was. Rosamund Fox's mother.

For one moment, the whole thing struck me as absurd, almost funny.

When I reached the room, Adrian was tending to Rosamund's mother with careful, attentive hands.

He even had time to gently comfort Rosamund, who was in tears.

And on the other side lay my mother's cold body, half covered by a hastily thrown sheet, no one having bothered to set her right after the harvest.

A woman who had prized her dignity all her life, and she wasn't even left the last of it.

I stood there staring at the scene, tears falling without my leave.

I raised my hand and drew the sheet over her myself.

Adrian turned at the sound, saw me, and went stiff.

A few seconds passed before he spoke, a note of urgency in his voice.

“Irene, it was an emergency. Your mother had been gone less than twenty-four hours, the skin was a match, the transplant couldn't be helped. Don't read too much into it.”

Don't read too much into it.

That phrase again.

My nails dug into my palms. I held myself back from screaming.

“Taking the heart my mother left me wasn't enough. You couldn't even leave her the last shred of her dignity.”

“Adrian, what gave you the right to decide this on your own?”

“This is my mother. What gave you the right!”

Adrian was silent for a long moment. There was pain in his eyes, and something helpless too.

“Irene, I know you're hurting. But the dead are gone, and we have to be practical. That skin can save a living person.”

Look at that.

Listen to how noble he made it sound.

Generous with what wasn't his to give, and not a trace of guilt.

My heart hurt until I could barely breathe. I didn't even have the strength left to fight.

I turned and wheeled my mother away.

Adrian came after me from behind.

“Irene, don't bottle it up. It's bad for your heart.”

As if to soothe me, he held his phone screen up in front of my face.

“Rosamund and I talked it over. For the wedding in two weeks, she's agreed to play along.”

“You'll wear this bridesmaid dress that looks like a wedding gown, and stand up on the stage beside her the whole time. That way the family shouldn't have anything more to say.”

My steps slowed to a stop.

I turned my head like something mechanical and stared at him.

“……what did you say?”

He seemed to notice how I felt, and his voice dropped a little.

“I talked to my mother. She was too worked up, she wouldn't budge. What I just said is the only way to keep the wedding on.”

“Irene, I know you feel wronged. But we've been together seven years, and you're carrying my child. You won't really leave me. You can't.”

“So think of it as giving in for me one more time.”

My heart hurt as though it had stopped beating.

Seven years, and in the end Adrian could wound me without the slightest fear of consequence.

I closed my eyes, then looked at him, calm. “Adrian, let's break up.”

His face changed.

He was about to say something when Rosamund called for him from behind, her voice catching on a sob.

He turned, with only time to leave one line behind: ‘Irene, stop making a scene. We'll talk it through properly when we get home tonight.’

Once more I watched his back as he walked away, and the last bit of warmth in my chest went cold.

I went to the crematorium.

Then to the cemetery.

After I laid my mother's ashes beside my father's headstone, I went back home.

I had packed the other half of my bags and was about to leave when the front door was shoved violently open.

I stumbled a few steps, still not understanding what was happening, when Rosamund lunged at me and slapped me hard across the face.

“Irene, where did you take Georgie?”

“Give her back to me. Give her back!”

She was crying so hard she could barely stay upright, close to fainting.

Adrian gathered her against him and looked at me, his face frighteningly cold.

“Irene, whatever you have against me, take it out on me. Georgie just had surgery. She can't survive your revenge.”

I stood where I was, shaking uncontrollably, and only from their accusations did I piece together the whole picture.

Georgina was gone, and they had decided I was the one who did it.

I pressed down hard on my heart, and it was a while before I got the strength to speak.

“It wasn't me……”

Before I finished, another hard slap landed.

This time it was Adrian.

“If it wasn't you, who else would go after a five-year-old child?”

“Irene, I'm giving you one last chance.”

My heart hurt until I couldn't breathe. I opened my mouth and couldn't get out a single word.

Rosamund broke down. She threw herself at me, hitting me hard, over and over, screaming for me to tell the truth.

My body slammed again and again into the corner of the shoe cabinet, and white light burst across my vision.

Then a warm liquid ran down the inside of my thigh.

Just then Rosamund's phone rang.

She answered, and a nurse's voice came through. “Ms. Fox? We've found the child. You and Dr. Stephens should come back.”

Rosamund let go of me, and I dropped to the floor like a rag.

She ran out the door, and Adrian left after her.

He didn't look back at me once.

So an hour later, Adrian never imagined he would get a call from the ICU.

“Dr. Stephens, could you please come to the ICU to sign a critical-condition notice? Ms. Winfield isn't going to make it.”