ログインDelilah Tomson Point of View
“Delilah ! My connection at the hospital just gave me the worst news you can hear today . ” Rosaline’s voice trembles with disbelief. “Emily… has delivered. Three healthy babies. Triplets. All of them survived.” The words hit me like a slap across the face. I can feel my pulse pounding in my temples, rage bubbling inside me like a volcano ready to erupt. I grip the edge of my dressing table so hard my nails dig into the polished wood. “What?” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the storm building within me. “I am so sorry, Delilah. ” Rosaline murmurs, her tone laced with sympathy. “Everything we feared , it is happening.” I stare into the mirror in front of me, barely recognizing the furious woman reflected back. My lipstick is smudged, my perfectly curled hair in disarray, and my eyes ,those once confident, dazzling green eyes are now wild with disbelief and fury. All of this… for nothing? I gave up everything for this plan. I pressed pause on my rising career, I poured thousands into that worthless surrogate, and I carried the lie of a fake pregnancy with grace and conviction. I played the part so well. And now… it is all unraveling. I slam my palm against the mirror. The sound cracks through the air, but not the glass. Damn it. “ How does Emily keep winning ? ” I snarl. “How does she always come out on top?” She does not deserve this life: the successful husband, the wealth and the perfect family. That was supposed to be mine. That should have been mine from the very beginning. “Rosaline,” I breathe, clutching the phone tightly. “It is time to implement the backup plan.” There is a long pause on the other end. “Delilah, if we go through with this, there is no turning back. You know that, right?” “I know,” I say, my voice as cold as steel. “We have come too far to lose everything now. If Emily thinks she has won, then she has not met the new version of us.” There is a dark silence between us, and then Rosaline responds with finality. “Alright. Let’s end this.” Nurse Nancy’s Point of View Most days, my job as a nurse brings me peace. Every time I hand a mother her newborn, I feel a glimmer of hope that maybe my life still has purpose. But yesterday was different. Yesterday, when I handed those triplets to Emily Jacobs… something stirred in me. It was as though a bond had been forged , one that I did not ask for but could not deny. Especially with the girls. Their tiny hands, their curious eyes… it was love at first sight. Not the kind of love a nurse is supposed to feel. No. This was something else. Something maternal. Something primal. I lingered longer than I should have in Emily’s room, adjusting blankets, checking vitals that did not need checking. I just wanted to be near them. If only for a few more minutes. “Please, Nancy. Go home and get some rest,” my supervisor gently scolds as she finds me back in the nursery again. “Your shift ended two hours ago.” I nod reluctantly, but inside I ache. Going home means facing silence. Emptiness. The reminder that I have lost everything: my husband, my chances of being a mother, and the dream of family. All I have now are hospital walls and the babies of strangers to hold me together. I open my mouth to beg for just one more hour just a little more time to sit beside Emily’s girls when a shrill alarm blares through the hospital corridors. “Emergency! All staff and patients must evacuate immediately! The fire has spread to the maternity wing! I repeat, evacuate the building through the designated emergency exits!” Panic breaks out. Nurses and doctors flood the hallways, wheeling beds and carrying infants in every direction. But I do not move with them. My heart drops. Emily’s triplets. I race down the corridor, past frantic mothers and screaming children, ignoring the smoke that is already beginning to seep through the ceiling vents. The maternity wing is blanketed in chaos. I shield my nose and mouth with a towel and push forward, coughing as the smoke thickens. I reach Emily’s private room, only to find the door locked. I kick it open with all my strength and stagger inside, praying the babies are okay. The cries hit me instantly. But there are only two. The twin girls are there screaming, red-faced, wrapped in blankets in the bassinet. But there is no sign of the boy. And no sign of Emily. What happened here? Why would a mother leave behind her babies? I scoop the girls into my arms, one on each side, and push through the smoke-choked hallway, trying to shield their faces as best I can. The building groans above me, and alarms continue to blare as sprinklers finally begin to spray overhead. Emily left them. She ran with the boy… and left these two angels to die? Tears burn in my eyes, but not from the smoke. From rage. From heartbreak. These little girls were left behind like discarded baggage. I can not stop thinking about it. What kind of mother does that ? Outside, nurses rush to receive us, taking babies from my arms, but I hold on tight. I will not let go. Not yet. Not after what I saw. Not after what I feel. “Ma’am, will take them .” one of the hospital staff reaches for the twins. “No,” I say, shielding them instinctively. “I will watch them until their mother is found.” But the words feel like a lie as soon as they leave my mouth. Because I know now what I did not know before. Emily Jacobs doe not deserve these babies. She left them behind in a fire. I do not care what her reasons were—fear, panic, whatever excuse she will make ,it does not matter. She abandoned them. And I saved them. These girls were meant to be mine. I walk away from the crowd, clutching the two tiny bundles to my chest as they quiet in my arms. As if they know. As if they trust me. As if they belong here. With me. I will not let her take them back. I will not hand them over to a woman who sees her children as disposable. I will raise them. I will be their mother . And no one ,not even God himself can stop me now .Nurse Nancy Point of ViewThe hospital walls were too white. Too bright. Too quiet for a place holding my worst nightmare. I come to work everyday but these corridors have never been this long and quite . It feels different than when I am here as an employee .I hardly slept for more than an hour . Sleep came in fragments, half-thoughts, sudden jerks, cold sweats but never fully. My body sat on a hospital bench, but my mind stood beside Jane’s hospital bed, over and over watching the monitors beep with cruel calmness while her chest struggled for air .Primrose slept curled beside me on the cold bench, a yellow blanket wrapped around her like a cocoon. Every few minutes I would pull the edges of the blanket higher, stroke her hair, and pray Jane would not die. I was a mother first, a nurse second but right now, both parts of me were falling apart .Nurses and doctors came in and out of the ICU room fast, focused, whispering. None of them said a word to me. Every time I approached, th
Delilah Point of ViewI did not sleep a wink last night . Sleep was a thin, guilty thing that slid over my eyes for minutes at a time and left me hollow when it slipped away. It left me wrapped around insomnia’s arms . In the dark my mind replayed the dining room: Jackson’s apologetic stance, Emily’s calm smile, the way Jackson Junior reached for her hand like someone who had always known her. The line he casual though in that he wishes Amara was Jackson Junior’s mother kept looping through my head until it felt like a pulse in my heart.“I wish you were Jackson Junior’s mother instead of Delilah.”It sounded like a verdict. Like a knife. I forced myself to leave my room only after I was sure Jackson had left the house because there was no appetite for another argument, no strength to be yelled at or humiliated again. I needed the morning to breathe, to gather myself. I needed the quiet to plan. There was work to be done. There was a woman to expose
Emily Point of View The morning light spilled softly across the room, warm and calm . It was the kind of calm that comes before a storm. I moved through my usual routine with mechanical grace, trying to silence the restlessness that still hummed beneath my skin. Ten minutes of stretching. Fifteen of yoga. Twenty of pretending that I was not thinking about my children. After a quick shower, I slipped into a silk robe and tied my hair loosely behind my head. My laptop was already waiting on the dining table beside a cup of herbal tea. I scanned through my emails , business updates, meeting requests, a dozen proposals from investors who wanted my name attached to their ambitions. But even the sharp lines of profit and numbers could not distract me from the quiet ache in my chest. As I ate breakfast : strawberries, toast, and eggs I barely tasted the food as my thoughts drifted back to the message from my pr
Delilah’s Point of ViewThis night certainly did not go as planned . It was supposed to end with Emily exposed and humiliated, her lies spilling across the dining table like shattered glass. But instead, I was the one left bleeding beneath the weight of Jackson’s fury while Emily was seen as an angel . I should have known.I should have known that Jackson would defend Emily . He always defends whoever benefits him more at the time . That is who he has always been, a man of convenience not loyalty.When he stood up from that table, his jaw tight, his voice trembling with anger, I saw the end of something. Maybe the end of us forever . Or maybe just the beginning of my revenge story .He did not even look at me when he walked her to the car.He followed her out like she was the queen of this house, like I was the mistress intruding in my own home.The sound of the front door closing echoed through the mansion like a final v
Emily’s Point of ViewThe night air was cool against my skin, soft and still, like the world itself was holding its breath after what had just happened inside that mansion.I walked out of the dining room with my head high, my heart beating steady in quiet triumph. For once, I had left Delilah speechless , her confidence shattered, her perfect evening reduced to chaos.Jackson walked beside me down the marble path, his hand hovering near my lower back, a gesture that was half chivalry, half apology. His voice was low, heavy with regret.“I’m… I’m sorry about that,” he said finally. “She has been under a lot of stress lately. Delilah does not usually act like that.”I turned to him, a soft smile appearing on my lips. “It’s all right, Jackson. Thank you for inviting me to dinner. This will not affect business , don’t worry .” I respond to him , voice was calm, even warm, but inside, I was savoring every ounce of his discomfort , every
Delilah’s Point of View That line Jackson threw in when I entered the dining room was eating me up inside more than I could chew the food in my mouth. “I wish you were Jackson Junior’s mother instead of Delilah.” Those words replayed in my head like a cursed echo, stinging deeper every time I blinked. I tried to laugh it off, to keep my composure while the servants placed dishes before us, but the taste of betrayal was stronger than the spice on my tongue. Because the truth Jackson did not know was the truth that burned inside me . The truth was that Jackson Junior was Emily’s son. The same Emily who had the audacity to sit across from me right now, pretending to be Amara Holt. I had stolen her son the night of the fire . The same Emily who had the nerve to steal glances at my husband with a soft smile as if she were the wronged angel and I, the monster of her story. If only Jackson







