I Called 17 Times for Help

Chapter 5

1,614 words

Vivian became a frequent guest at our house.

Every time she visited, she brought home-baked low-sugar treats and prenatal vitamins.

I even showed her my unpublished curriculum drafts.

When she left, she would stand at the doorway, her eyes red, holding my hand.

"Cassie, you are so good to me. I don't think I can ever repay your kindness."

I patted her hand, smiling.

That night, I was sitting on the sofa, sewing a baby blanket.

My phone buzzed.

A former colleague from CasStart had sent me a screenshot.

It was from Vivian's private Snapchat story. She had forgotten to block the newer employees.

The photo didn't show her face.

It was a silhouette of Ethan sitting at his desk, reviewing documents under the warm office light.

The caption was just three words:

"My only sun."

I stared at those words on the screen.

My hand shook, and the sewing needle pierced deep into my finger.

Blood welled up instantly.

I didn't reach for a tissue. I just pressed my bleeding finger against my rounded, four-month-old belly.

When I was seven months pregnant, in the dead of a freezing winter night, I woke up.

A sharp, tearing pain suddenly ripped through my abdomen.

It felt like a cold blade was being twisted inside me.

Warm, thick liquid instantly soaked through my pajamas.

With trembling hands, I reached for my phone on the nightstand.

I dialed his number.

"The number you have dialed is currently switched off..."

I gritted my teeth, sliding off the bed onto the cold hardwood floor. My blood dragged a long, horrifying smear across the wood.

I called seventeen times.

Every single call went straight to voicemail.

The trail continues in the app

The unsealed pages end here.

Sealed for now

Every file in this archive is a catalogue entry: the title, the cast of details publishers release, and the opening chapters they let us unseal. The complete text lives in the official reading app we link to, never on this server.