Chapter 3

Life after the divorce was quieter than Layla had imagined, but harder too.

She had been out of the workforce too long. She interviewed at several tutoring centers, and every one of them turned her down politely because of the gap in her résumé.

"Miss Fox, your credentials are solid, but the tutoring industry is high-pressure these days. You haven't worked in three years, and we're worried you won't be able to keep up with the pace."

The interviewer closed her résumé and saw her out with a courteous smile.

Layla stepped out of the office building, and the noon sun left her dizzy.

Lately she was always tired, drained of energy, and her appetite had gone terrible. The faintest smell of cooking oil made her want to be sick, and brushing her teeth in the morning left her retching over and over.

"It's probably just stress, plus a cold from the change of seasons," she told herself, and stopped at a pharmacy for some stomach medicine.

But after two days, the symptoms hadn't eased. If anything, they were worse.

That day she was boiling pasta at home. She lifted the lid, and a wave of the broth smell hit her in the face.

"Ugh——"

She bolted for the bathroom and threw up until the world spun, until she was almost bringing up bile.

She looked at her pale, worn reflection in the mirror, and a thought flashed through her mind that hit her like a bolt of lightning.

That month... it hadn't come.

Two weeks before the divorce, Hubert had come home drunk. It was not long after Letitia had returned to the country, and Hubert had seemed in a foul mood. That night he'd been rough, a little out of control...

With shaking hands, Layla dug out the calendar.

Forty days late.

She didn't dare put it off. She pulled on a mask and hat and took a cab to the public hospital farthest from home. She avoided the private ones, afraid of running into someone the Delgados knew.

A long line stretched outside the obstetrics department, full of women with big round bellies and the husbands who'd come along. Only Layla sat alone in a corner.

"Number 28, Layla Fox."

She walked into the ultrasound room.

The doctor slid the probe back and forth across her belly, her brow drawing tighter and tighter.

Layla's heart climbed into her throat. "Doctor, is it... is something growing in there?"

The doctor stopped, turned to look at her, something complicated in her eyes. "Something's growing, all right. But it's good news."

"Did you conceive naturally?" the doctor asked.

"Yes." Layla nodded.

"Impressive." The doctor turned the screen toward her and pointed at three little dark dots on it. "See these? Three gestational sacs. You're carrying triplets."

"What?!" Layla nearly jumped off the table. "Three... three of them?"

"That's right, triplets. And all three have heartbeats already. They're developing well." The doctor talked as she typed up the report. "But you're far too thin. Carrying triplets is high-risk, and later on you're prone to premature labor and high blood pressure. Did anyone come with you? This is something to discuss with your husband. Raising three children is an enormous challenge, financially and physically."

Husband?

Layla's hand drifted, without thinking, to her flat stomach.

What husband did she have.

All she had was an ex-husband who'd just divorced her and was getting ready to fly off into the sunset with his first love.

She left the exam room with the ultrasound printout in her hand, sank onto a bench in the hospital corridor, and her mind went blank.

Three children.

If this had happened before the divorce, the Delgados would have been over the moon. Her mother-in-law had always wanted a grandson, and even Hubert, cold as he was, had said he wanted a child.

But now, everything had changed.

If the Delgados found out, these three children would be taken from her at once. A family like theirs would never allow its bloodline to be raised elsewhere.

But once the children entered the Delgado house, they'd have a stepmother named Letitia.

A woman as delicate and petty as Letitia, with a heart smaller than a pin's point, would she treat Layla's children well?

More than that, Hubert didn't love her at all. If these three were born, they'd grow up in a single-parent home, or in a loveless mansion, turned into tools in a fight over an inheritance.

Layla touched the bank card in her pocket.

If she didn't tell the Delgados, how could she ever raise three children on her own?