Chapter 8

While Sheila lay unconscious, she seemed to drift through an endless dream. In it, she was in a hospital, lying on a cold operating table. Doctors and nurses in white coats surrounded her.

She wanted to speak and tried with all her strength, but no sound would come out.

She did not know how much time had passed before her eyes finally opened. To her surprise, she was lying in the bed of her own bedroom.

Every inch of her body ached.

She was just about to call for one of the maids when their voices drifted in from outside the door.

"Mrs. Stewart still isn't awake, is she? Poor thing."

"I know. Mr. Stewart always acts like he worships her, but who would have guessed he'd do something this cruel to her for Ms. Zeller?"

"Sir told him to cut all ties with Ms. Zeller and even arranged for someone to hit her with a car. Instead of taking it out on Sir, Mr. Stewart took it out on Mrs. Stewart."

"He drugged her, knocked her unconscious, took her to the hospital, and had her uterus removed."

"He even had a huge fight with Sir. He said if anyone ever laid another finger on Ms. Zeller, he'd make Mrs. Stewart suffer a hundred times worse, just like he did this time."

"He also said no one should even think about taking Max away."

"Mrs. Stewart can't have children anymore without her uterus."

"Only Ms. Zeller deserves to give birth to his child."

"Exactly. Mrs. Stewart is still recovering. To keep her from finding out, Mr. Stewart brought her straight home from the hospital."

"He specifically warned all of us not to let her discover the truth."

"Who would dare tell her? It would destroy her."

...

Sheila sat frozen on the bed. It felt as though a bolt of lightning had split her in two, every part of her body hurt so badly it felt ready to fall apart.

Her trembling hands slowly lifted the hem of her shirt, revealing a fresh surgical scar stretching across her lower abdomen. The stitches were still new. Perhaps because the anesthesia had not fully worn off, the pain was not yet overwhelming.

The pain in her heart, however, was another matter. It felt as though someone had wrapped a hand around it and was squeezing with all their strength, making it almost impossible for her to breathe.

Joshua had strangled their newborn son for Cecilia. He had crippled her legs for Cecilia. Now, he had taken her uterus too.

She could not bear it another second. She had to confront him.

Forcing herself out of bed, she staggered to her feet, grabbed her wheelchair and stumbled toward the door.

In her panic, she accidentally wandered into the one room Joshua had always forbidden anyone from entering.

The moment she pushed the door open… she froze.

She had thought his phone contained enough photos of Cecilia.

She had been wrong.

The room was filled with them. Pictures of Cecilia covered every wall, while the bookshelves were lined with countless keepsakes from their years together — a scarf Cecilia had knitted for him by hand, the love letters he had written to her, and even the preserved umbilical cord from the day she gave birth to Max.

On the desk lay a journal.

With trembling hands, Sheila opened it.

The very first sentence shattered what little remained of her heart.

[Today, I'm marrying a woman I do not love. I already know the rest of my life will be nothing but misery.]

Every line that followed was another knife sinking into her chest.

[Today, I slept with Sheila. She wanted more, so I comforted her gently and gave in one more time. Afterward, I took three showers.]

Sheila's fingers trembled violently as she turned the page.

Another entry came into view.

[I killed Sheila's baby with my own hands. He looked so much like her. Tiny, soft, fair-skinned.

For a moment, I almost could not do it. However, Cecilia cried. She said she could not bear the thought of me having a child with another woman. So, I sacrificed Sheila instead. I watched that baby take his last breath in my hands.]

...

Line after line, word after word, Sheila finally broke. She wanted to scream, to cry until the whole world heard her, yet not a single sound escaped her lips.

How could you love her this much, Joshua? How could you love her this much?

For her… you had dragged your own wife and your own son straight into hell.