Eight months pregnant, I caught my father-in-law, Richard, walking out of my best friend Jessica’s apartment. Two of his shirt buttons were misaligned, and there was a prominent lipstick smudge on his collar. I told my mother-in-law, Helen, about it that very night. She stared at me in silence for three seconds, then slapped me hard across the face. “You were the one who brought that little tramp into our house in the first place!” “If you hadn’t invited her over, do you think your father would have made this kind of mistake?” Richard was sitting on the sofa watching TV, never once turning his head. Helen pointed at the hardwood floor, her voice cold. “Get on your knees.” “Apologize to your father. You’ve completely humiliated this family.” I was heavily pregnant, but I knelt on the cold floor for twenty minutes. By the time my knees went numb, my dress was soaked. I was bleeding. I braced myself against the wall, stood up, and dragged myself to the front door. “You’re right. It is my fault.” “My mistake was marrying into this family. And this baby… I don’t want it anymore.” 0
“Your wife tripped on her own feet and hit her stomach against the edge of the coffee table. Her father and I are taking her to the hospital right now.” Helen’s voice drifted from the back of the ambulance. She was on the phone with Ethan. I lay on the stretcher. I didn’t even feel the pinch when the nurse inserted the IV catheter into the back of my hand. All my senses were concentrated on my lower abdomen. It was a sharp, tearing pain that kept pulling downward, as if someone were violently ripping something out from inside me. My dress was completely soaked from the waist down. The heavy metallic smell of blood filled my nose, making my head spin. “It’s not a big deal. If you’re busy at the conference, don’t rush back. I’ve got things handled here.” He couldn’t rush back. Ethan was at a business conference in the capital, a four-hour train ride away. Helen hung up the phone and slipped it back into her coat pocket. Her eyes swept over me—only for a fraction of a second—before landing on the IV drip in my arm. “Doctor, can we save the baby?” “The situation doesn’t look good. We’ll have to run an ultrasound and evaluate once we reach the ER.” She nodded curtly and leaned back into her seat. Richard sat on the folding stool beside her, his hands clasped over his knees, staring blankly at the ambulance floor. The magenta lipstick smudge was still on his collar. Under the harsh white lights of the ambulance, it was painfully glaring. His buttons were still mismatched, his collar crooked, making him look like he had thrown his clothes on in a panicked rush. But Helen hadn’t asked him to change. From our living room to the ambulance, Helen had only done two things: dial 911 and call Ethan. Before getting into the ambulance, she had leaned down and whispered a warning in my ear. “Keep your mouth shut when we get to the hospital.” It wasn’t a plea. It was a threat. When they wheeled me into the emergency room, the corridor lights were blindingly bright, flashing past one by one. I heard voices shouting about gestational age, blood loss, and blood pressure. I opened my mouth to speak, but not a single sound came out. Before the operating room doors swung shut, I heard Helen explaining the situation to the triage nurse outside. “She tripped at home. Her belly slammed right into the corner of the wooden coffee table.” The nurse asked, “Who was home at the time?” “My husband and I. We both saw it happen.” Richard stood beside her, remaining silent. He didn’t need to say anything. His silence was his consent. I don’t remember much of what happened after that. There were bright lights, the clinking of metal instruments, the suffocating pressure of an oxygen mask pressed over my face, and cold hands pressing against my abdomen. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. I wanted to hold onto something, but my fingers only found the cold, sterile edge of the metal operating table. When I finally regained consciousness, I was in a ward. White ceiling, white sheets, and an IV bag dripping steadily above my head. My stomach was flat. It wasn’t an empty feeling of hunger. It was a hollow, deflated sensation, as if a vital part of me had been violently scooped out. I reached down and touched it. Soft. Flat. Eight months. I was only six weeks away from my due date. The door was slightly ajar, letting in a sliver of light from the hallway. A nurse pushed a cart past, glanced at me, stopped, and poked her head in. “You’re awake? Don’t move. I’ll get the doctor.” She hurried out. The other bed in the room was empty. The entire space felt incredibly hollow. Soon, I heard soft footsteps in the hallway. They were light and hesitant, as if trying not to disturb anyone. Then, a familiar voice spoke. “Richard, I brought you a change of clothes. I also brought some hot herbal chicken broth in the thermos. Drink it while it’s hot.” It was Jessica, my best friend. She was wearing a cream-colored cardigan, her hair styled in a neat bun. She held a shopping bag and a thermos, her makeup absolutely flawless. The young nurse at the station took the thermos and placed it on the counter, asking casually, “Are you a family member?” Jessica offered a soft, sweet smile. “Practically. They don’t have much family in the city, so I’m just helping out.” When she handed the bag of clothes to Richard, her fingers lingered on the strap for a second. Richard took it and, for the first time, lifted his head. Their eyes met. Jessica was the first to look away, offering a shy, demure smile. I knew that smile all too well. Throughout our four years of college, I had seen her use that exact same smile on guys a thousand times. Helen walked down the hallway. When she saw Jessica, her steps hesitated for a moment. Jessica immediately stepped forward and gently took Helen’s arm. “Helen, you must be exhausted after sitting here for so long. I just asked the nurses, and there’s a lounge nearby. Why don’t you go take a nap? I’ll watch over Chloe.” Helen stared at her. She stared for three long seconds. “Alright. Thank you, Jessica.” The door to my room was pushed open. Jessica walked in carrying the thermos. Seeing my open eyes, she froze slightly. “Chloe, you’re awake?” She set the thermos on the nightstand and leaned over me. She placed her hand on my arm. Her fingers were cool, her nails perfectly manicured and painted with a sheer topcoat. “How are you feeling? Does it hurt? I came as soon as I heard.” I stared at the spot where her fingers touched my skin. “You got here incredibly fast.” “I heard about the baby… Don’t think too much about it right now. Just focus on recovering.” Her eyes welled with tears, her eyelashes fluttering dramatically. I had known Jessica for eleven years. She did this every single time she faked crying. “Chloe, get some rest. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be right outside.” She straightened up and walked out with the empty bag. She didn’t close the door all the way. From the hallway, I could hear her whispering to Richard, their voices low and intimate. “I put the clothes in your bag. Change into them tomorrow.” “Okay.” “I already took care of the stain on your collar. No one will notice.” 0
“Doctor, how is she really doing?” Helen’s voice drifted in from outside. There was an urgency in her tone that I had never heard before. But she wasn’t anxious for me—she was anxious about the baby. The doctor, a middle-aged man, spoke in a calm, measured voice. “The patient suffered a placental abruption, which caused severe hemorrhaging. We had to perform an emergency C-section. We couldn’t save the baby.” The hallway fell dead silent for two seconds. Then, Helen’s voice spiked. “How is that possible? He was eight months old! How could you not save him?” “The blood loss was too severe. By the time she was brought in, we had already missed the critical window. How did she get injured?” “She tripped. She fell at home.” Helen answered without a second of hesitation. “I see… Just make sure she gets plenty of rest. Her emotional state will be very fragile over the next few days. Try not to trigger her.” “Of course, of course. Thank you, Doctor.” Their footsteps faded away. I stared at a water stain on the ceiling. It looked like a curled-up shrimp. Gone. The little life that had been kicking inside me for five months was just… gone. During my ultrasound last month, the technician had pointed at the screen and smiled. “Look, he’s sucking his thumb.” I had seen it. A tiny, blurry hand curled right next to his face. Ethan had been standing right next to me, recording it on his phone and smiling like an idiot. Helen pushed the door open and walked in. She paused at the entrance, her eyes scanning my face before dropping to my flat stomach. Her expression was complex. It looked less like grief and more like she was calculating a financial loss. She walked over, pulled up a chair, and sat down. Her fingers tapped lightly against the edge of the bed. “You’re awake?” “Yeah.” She looked at me, her lips twitching as if she were rehearsing her speech. Then she spoke. “Look what you’ve done. You lost my grandson.” “Eight months. He was only six weeks away. Why did you have to throw a tantrum and cause all this drama?” My lips were dry and cracked. I licked them, tasting the metallic tang of dried blood. “You made me kneel…” “What did you say?” She leaned in closer, dropping her voice to a harsh whisper. “What did you say? Who made you kneel? You tripped because you weren’t looking where you were going. Didn’t we already agree on that?” There wasn’t a shred of guilt in her eyes. She genuinely believed her own lie. Or rather, she had successfully rewritten reality in her mind until she believed it. “If you feel wronged, think about what you did,” she said, straightening up and returning to her normal volume. “Who was the one who brought that home-wrecking tramp into our house? Whatever mistake Richard made, the root of the problem lies with you. And now that the baby is gone, how am I supposed to explain this to Ethan?” “Tell him the truth,” I said, staring at her. “Tell Ethan what actually happened.” Her face froze. “What do you want me to tell him? About his father? About you kneeling?” “The truth.” “The truth?” She stood up abruptly, the chair legs screeching against the floor. “If the truth gets out, what happens to Richard’s reputation? What happens to this family? If Ethan finds out his own father did this, do you think he can handle it?” She bent down, her face inches from mine. “What good does it do you to tear this family apart? You’ll end up with nothing. A childless wife with no family background to back you up—how do you expect to compete with me?” There was a light knock on the door. Jessica peeked her head in. “Helen, the herbal broth is warm. Let’s get Chloe to drink some.” Helen stepped back, her angry expression instantly vanishing like a flipped page. “Oh, thank goodness. Look how thoughtful this girl is. Come in, Jessica.” Jessica walked in holding a white porcelain bowl. The warm broth had a few goji berries floating on top. She brought the bowl to my lips, holding the bottom with one hand and supporting the rim with the other. “Chloe, have some. It’s freshly brewed with herbal supplements.” I didn’t move. “Chloe?” “Jessica, about that bag of clothes you brought.” “Huh?” She blinked. “How did you know my father-in-law’s exact sizes?” The bowl froze in mid-air. Jessica’s smile remained, but the corners of her mouth stiffened. Helen cleared her throat loudly from the side. “She was just helping. I called her and told her to grab those clothes from our house. I told her the sizes. Now, stop overthinking and drink your broth.” Jessica’s smile recovered, and she nudged the bowl closer to me. “Chloe, Helen told me to get them. You’re just exhausted and overthinking.” I looked at the broth. A thin layer of oil glistened on the surface. “And how did you get into the house? Whose keys did you use?” Jessica’s fingers tightened around the bowl. Helen’s voice turned incredibly sharp. “Chloe! This girl ran all over town to help you, and you’re interrogating her? Are you going to drink this or not? If not, I’m taking it away.” Jessica placed the bowl on the nightstand. She stepped back, lowering her head as she wiped her hands with a tissue. When she looked up, her eyes were red. “Chloe, I know you’re hurting right now… Nobody wanted this to happen to the baby. If my presence is upsetting you, I’ll just leave.” Her voice carried a perfect, delicate sob. Helen sighed and wrapped an arm around Jessica’s shoulders. “Look at you, Jessica, don’t say that. You’ve been running around helping us for hours. Look at everything on the nightstand—you brought all of it. And here she is, taking out her bitterness on you.” “It’s fine, Helen. Chloe is in pain and emotionally unstable. I understand.” Jessica wiped her eyes and offered me a tearful smile. “Chloe, get some rest. I’ll reheat the broth for you later.” 0
“Ethan’s train gets in in about an hour,” Helen said, looking at her phone. Richard sat in the corner of the room on a plastic chair. He hadn’t moved an inch. From the ambulance to the hospital, from the hallway to this room, he had been like a piece of luggage—placed in a corner, completely silent. Helen whispered in his ear. The room was small, and every single word leaked into my ears. “When Ethan gets here, we tell him she tripped. Hit her stomach on the coffee table. Keep your mouth shut.” “Yeah.” Richard’s first word. Since yesterday, he had spoken exactly one word. “And another thing—not a word about Jessica. She only came to help because I called her. It has nothing to do with anything else. Understood?” “Yeah.” His second word. Helen leaned back in her chair and began scrolling through her phone. After two minutes, she suddenly looked up at me. “If you dare say anything stupid to Ethan later, you better think about the consequences.” “What consequences?” “If word about your father-in-law gets out, how are the Carters supposed to survive in this city? How is Ethan supposed to hold his head up? He finally secured a good position at his firm—do you want him going to work with everyone knowing his father is a cheat?” She placed her phone on her lap, crossing her hands like a boss waiting for a report. “Just make sure you know what’s best for you.” I said nothing. The adjacent bed remained empty, its sheets folded neatly. The entire floor was dead quiet, save for the occasional squeak of a nurse’s cart rolling past. Around two in the afternoon, the door was pushed open. Ethan stood at the entrance. He was still wearing his navy travel jacket, his suitcase gripped tightly in his hand. His collar was half-crumpled, his hair a messy nest, and his face carried the sheer exhaustion of a rushed journey. The moment his eyes landed on me, his eyes turned red. He dropped his suitcase and rushed to my bedside in three quick strides. Kneeling down, he grabbed both of my hands in his. “Chloe.” His hands were shaking violently. “The baby…” “Ethan,” Helen stood up, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Don’t panic. Listen to me first.” “Mom, let me talk to her first.” “Listen to me.” Helen’s grip was incredibly tight, her knuckles turning white. “She wasn’t careful when she was walking around the house yesterday. She tripped and hit her stomach against the corner of the coffee table. Your father and I called 911 immediately. We couldn’t save the baby… but Chloe is going to be fine.” Ethan didn’t turn back to look at his mother. He kept his eyes locked on mine, looking up from his knelt position. “Chloe, how did you fall?” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Helen’s gaze was pinned to the side of my face like a dagger. Richard cleared his throat from the corner. “She tripped on her slippers. Your mother and I both saw it.” After saying that, he lowered his head again, as if he had just completed a chore he was forced to do. Ethan looked at his father, then at his mother, and finally turned back to me. “Chloe?” “…Yeah.” I couldn’t say it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. It was because Helen was standing right behind him, her hand still gripping his shoulder, her chin tilted up slightly as she glared down at me. Her eyes were filled with pure threat. She took it for granted that I would cooperate. She took it for granted that I wouldn’t dare speak up. Ethan held my hand, his thumb gently rubbing the back of my palm. “It’s okay, Chloe. As long as you’re safe. We can… we can have another baby in the future.” His voice cracked, and a tear escaped his eye, splashing onto the back of my hand. Soft footsteps sounded at the door. Jessica walked in holding a cup of warm water. Seeing Ethan, she paused. “Ethan? You’re back?” Ethan turned around, surprised. “Jessica? Why are you here?” “I rushed over the moment I heard about Chloe. Helen called me to help out since you guys don’t have many relatives in the city.” She placed the cup on the nightstand and gave Ethan a reassuring smile. It was a perfectly rehearsed, comforting smile. “I brought the change of clothes and toiletries. Your parents have been at the hospital all night. They’re exhausted.” Ethan looked at the thermos and the neatly folded towels on the nightstand. “Thank you, Jessica.” “Don’t mention it. Chloe has always been so good to me. Of course I’d be here.” When she said “our Chloe,” she gently patted my blanket. Ethan didn’t notice anything wrong. How could he? All he saw was his wife’s best friend rushing to help, his parents staying up all night, and everyone gathering around to care for me. “Ethan, you’ve been traveling for hours,” Helen said, taking his suitcase and pushing it into the corner. “Stay with Chloe for a bit. Your father and I are going downstairs to grab a bite. What do you want to eat?” “Anything.” Helen tugged at Richard’s sleeve, and the two of them left the room. Jessica followed them out, stopping at the door. “Ethan, I’ll leave you two to talk. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be in the hallway.” The door clicked shut. Only the two of us were left in the room. Ethan pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down, holding my hands. “Chloe, you’ve been through so much.” I looked into his eyes. They were bloodshot and heavy. “Ethan.” “Yeah?” “When you go home… take a look at the living room.” He paused. “What’s wrong with the living room?” “Just go look. You’ll understand.” I had tried to say this yesterday, but the nurse had interrupted us. He stared at my expression, his lips pressing into a tight line. “Okay. I’ll go back tomorrow.” “Go today.” “Today? But Chloe, you…” “Ethan, go back today. Look at the living room.” Helen’s voice suddenly cut in as she pushed the door back open. Her expression was tense. “Look at what living room? There’s nothing to see. Ethan, don’t listen to her. She’s still delirious from the anesthesia.” “I am perfectly sane.” I stared directly at Helen. She held my gaze for three seconds. Then, she smiled. It was a mocking smile, the smile of someone who believed she had won. “Chloe, sweetie, you must be running a fever. You tripped and fell. What is there to see at home? I already cleaned up the blood on the coffee table.” She walked over and patted Ethan’s hand. “Don’t go back. I’ll have a cleaning service tidy up the place tomorrow. Just stay here and keep Chloe company.” She walked to the door, pausing with her back to us. “Oh, by the way, Ethan. The home security camera seems to have disconnected. It hasn’t been working since we changed the router last month. Fix it when you have time.” The door closed. Ethan kept his head down, his thumb rubbing his knee. After a long silence, he stood up. “Chloe, I’m going home.” “Your mother said the camera is disconnected.” He picked up his jacket. “I know. But the cloud storage auto-backs up. Disconnecting from the Wi-Fi doesn’t delete the recorded footage.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Wait for me.” 0
“Ethan, why are you back? Didn’t I tell you not to go home?” Helen’s voice blared through the speaker of Ethan’s phone. He had put her on speakerphone in his car and shared his live location with me after starting a call recording. “Just grabbing a few things.” “What could be so important that you have to grab it today? Your wife is in the hospital. Shouldn’t you be with her?” “I’ll be quick. I’ll head back right after. Mom, where are you?” “I’m at the hospital. Just stepped out to buy some fruit. Why?” “Nothing.” He hung up. I lay in the hospital bed, my phone resting face-up on the pillow. Twelve minutes later, a text from Ethan popped up. [Cloud storage has the recording. Downloading now.] Six minutes passed. [Chloe, the living room footage. I’m watching it.] Then came a long, agonizing silence. The chat screen remained frozen on those words. The “typing…” indicator in the corner flashed, disappeared, and flashed again. It repeated seven or eight times. Finally, a message came through. [How long did you kneel?] I stared at those words, my lips dry and cracked. [Twenty minutes.] The other side went silent again. This time, the silence lasted so long I thought he wouldn’t reply. Then, my phone vibrated. It wasn’t a text. It was a call. I answered. There was no sound on the other end. No, there was—a faint, choked breath, as if something was blocking his throat. “Ethan.” “…I saw it.” His voice was hoarse. It wasn’t the hoarseness of exhaustion; it was the sound of someone completely broken from the inside. “You knelt for twenty minutes. My mother slapped you. You were bleeding. And my father just sat there on the sofa.” He paused, his breath hitching. “And at the end… they watched you drag yourself to the door. After you left, they looked at each other.” “And then?” “They smiled.” When he spoke that word, his voice cracked violently. “They smiled. Your dress was covered in blood, you were leaning against the wall to walk, and they just sat on the sofa, looked at each other, and smiled.” A loud crashing sound echoed through the phone, like a fist slamming hard against a steering wheel. Then came his voice again. It was no longer hoarse, but terrifyingly clear. “Chloe, why didn’t you tell me?” “Do you think I had a single chance to speak?” He fell silent. “When you got to the hospital, your mother kept her hand on your shoulder. Your father sat in the corner, playing his part. Jessica was standing at the door with herbal broth, waiting for her cue. When was I supposed to tell you?” “Jessica—” “Ethan, Jessica knows your father’s underwear size. She brought him a change of clothes, and the nurse thought she was a family member. Go check that bag of clothes. Are his personal items in there?” Silence stretched over the line. Fifteen seconds later. “I checked.” His voice had completely changed, cold as steel. “There’s an undershirt, boxers, and a can of shaving cream. The brand is—” “Gillette, menthol. The exact brand your father has used for over a decade. Jessica has only known your father for three months, yet she knows that.” “Three months?” “On my birthday in May, I invited her over for dinner. Your father poured her drinks three times. The very next week, she came over when I wasn’t home, claiming she wanted to borrow a book. I wasn’t there.” “You weren’t there… Who opened the door?” “Take a guess.” The phone went dead silent. I could hear his heavy, ragged breathing, like a man who had been underwater for too long and finally surfaced. “I’m coming back to the hospital.” “What do you plan to do when you get back?” “I don’t know. But I won’t let you suffer another second of this.” “Ethan.” “Yeah?” “Did you export the security footage?” “Yes. One copy on my phone, one on a flash drive.” “Don’t delete it.” “I won’t.” “There’s one more thing.” “Tell me.” “Isn’t there a family dinner this Sunday? The one where your uncles and aunts are all coming?” “…Yes.” “Bring the flash drive.” Silence for three seconds. “Chloe, are you sure?” “I knelt for twenty minutes, bled through my dress, and lost my baby. Do you think I have any doubts left?” He took a deep breath. “Alright.” 0
“Chloe, are you feeling any better today?” When Ethan walked in carrying a bowl of oatmeal, Helen had already been sitting in the room for half an hour. During that time, she had gone on three separate rants, always circling back to the same point. “It’s such a shame to lose a baby at eight months. It was a boy, too. We saw it on the ultrasound.” “How could you be so careless while walking? That coffee table has been in the living room for three years. You walked past it every day. Why did you have to trip that day?” “Ethan, you have no idea. Your father and I were terrified when we saw how much she was bleeding. Your father’s hands are still shaking.” Richard was indeed shaking. He sat on the chair by the window, his right hand resting on the armrest, his fingers trembling slightly. Ethan placed the oatmeal on the overbed table and sat at my bedside. “Mom, stop. Chloe needs to rest.” “Stop? How can I stop? That was my grandson!” Helen’s voice rose a octave, her eyes welling with tears. Her greatest talent in life was crying. At any moment, she could turn her eyes red and instantly claim the moral high ground. “Ethan, you only care about your wife. But who cares about me? I waited three years for this grandson, and now he’s just gone.” She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, her voice cracked with emotion. “I’m not blaming Chloe. But if the baby were still here, wouldn’t we be setting up the nursery right now?” Ethan didn’t reply. “Mom, stop crying. We can try again later.” “Try again? Easy for you to say. Chloe suffered severe trauma this time. Who knows if she can even get pregnant again.” She crumpled the tissue into a ball, threw it on the nightstand, and glared at me. “Chloe, I’m not trying to pick on you, but you must watch your step in the future.” “Helen is right.” Jessica appeared at the door once again. She was holding a brown paper bag stamped with the logo of a local herbal pharmacy. “I went to grab some herbal supplements to help Chloe recover her strength.” She walked in, placed the bag on the table, and checked my IV drip. “It’s almost empty. I’ll go get the nurse.” She turned and left. Ethan let out a heavy sigh. “Jessica is really a great friend. She’s been running around for us these past two days.” “Exactly,” Helen chimed in. “She put her own life on hold to help us, and your wife had the audacity to interrogate her yesterday.” Ethan looked at me. “Chloe? What happened?” I didn’t bother explaining. Helen “explained” for me. “She asked Jessica how she knew her father-in-law’s sizes. Jessica ran all over town to help, and Chloe practically treated her like a criminal.” Ethan’s brows furrowed. “Chloe, Jessica was just trying to help…” “Ethan.” “Yeah?” “When are you going home?” He blinked, confused. “Home? To grab what?” “Just go back once, and you’ll see.” I had said this yesterday before the nurse interrupted. He stared at my face, his lips tightening. “Fine. I’ll go back tomorrow.” “Go today.” “Today? But Chloe…” “Ethan, go today. Look at the living room.” Helen’s face paled. “What is there to see in the living room? There’s nothing there. Ethan, don’t listen to her. She’s completely out of it.” “I am perfectly clear-headed.” I looked directly at Helen. She held my gaze for three seconds. Then, she smiled. It was her signature condescending smile, confident that she had me trapped. “Chloe, dear, you must be delirious. You tripped and fell. What is there to see at home? I already cleaned up the blood on the coffee table.” She stood up and patted Ethan’s hand. “Don’t go. I’ll have the house cleaned tomorrow. Just stay here with Chloe.” She walked to the door, pausing with her back to us. “Oh, by the way, Ethan. The security camera seems to have disconnected. It hasn’t worked since we changed routers last month. Fix it when you have a chance.” The door closed. Ethan stared down, rubbing his hands together. After a dozen seconds, he stood up. “Chloe, I’m going home.” “Your mother said the camera is disconnected.” He grabbed his jacket. “I know. But the cloud storage backs up automatically. Disconnecting from the Wi-Fi doesn’t stop the playback.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Wait for me.”
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