Chapter 4

"D-Doctor, are you sure you're not mistaken?"

Eleanor's voice trembled despite her effort to steady it. She stared at the man in the white coat in front of her as darkness swam at the edges of her vision.

"How is that possible? I…"

In her previous life, this child didn't exist.

The doctor didn't seem surprised by her reaction. He simply slid the ultrasound report toward her and said evenly, "Ms. Sutton, you're six weeks pregnant. There's no mistake. It's written clearly in the report."

He paused, glanced at her pale face, and softened his tone slightly, though his words remained cruel.

"You're showing severe signs of threatened miscarriage. I've prescribed medication to stabilize the pregnancy, and you'll need strict bed rest. If you don't manage to keep this baby, given your physical condition, it may be very difficult for you to conceive again in the future."

Eleanor's gaze slowly dropped to her still-flat belly, and her hand moved there on its own.

A tiny life was growing inside her.

This sudden, unexpected variable sent waves crashing through the calm she'd maintained since her rebirth, stirring her heart into turmoil for the first time.

When she walked out of the hospital, the blazing summer sun stung her eyes.

She instinctively pulled out her phone and opened her chat with Harrison, only to find it empty.

During the days she'd been hospitalized, he'd been just as he'd been in her previous life. He hadn't given her a single call or message.

Should she tell him that they had a child?

The thought barely formed before she crushed it herself, her heart aching with that familiar, dull pain that felt like it had been ground down again and again.

What would telling him change? He already had a child now.

If anything, he might even think she was lying to compete for his attention.

She didn't dare gamble, and she didn't want to.

…

The moment Eleanor stepped through the front door, the broken moans of a woman and a man's heavy breathing drifted down from the second floor, obscene and piercing to the ears.

She paused mid-motion while changing her shoes, her expression calm and unsurprised.

Step by step, she walked upstairs. The sounds grew clearer until she stopped in front of the nursery door.

Through the narrow crack, Winona's dress was bunched around her legs as she sagged bonelessly in Harrison's arms. The flush on her face hadn't faded, and the corners of her eyes were still damp.

Beneath them was the little bed Eleanor had personally chosen for their future child.

Her stomach churned violently, and she nearly retched.

"Harry, I really love this room," Winona said in a hoarse, post-intimacy voice. "Let's use it for our baby later, okay? But the moon lamp is too sharp. Can we replace it?"

"Sure," Harrison replied, sounding mildly helpless but indulgent all the same. "Those were just thrown together before. If you don't like them, I'll have someone come replace everything tomorrow."

Thrown together?

Eleanor's mind instantly flashed back to the sight of Harrison carrying that moon lamp home, eyes bright with excitement like a child eager to show off a toy.

"Look, honey. Our baby will never have to be afraid of the dark," he had said.

While she was lost in that memory, Harrison's gaze fell on Winona's abdomen, his eyes filled with a tenderness Eleanor had never once seen directed at her.

"Winona, don't worry. I'll give our baby the very best this world has to offer."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Winona suddenly lifted her head. Her gaze slipped precisely past Harrison's shoulder and met Eleanor's cold eyes through the crack in the door.

A flicker of triumph crossed Winona's lips before she buried herself back in Harrison's arms, her voice turning tearful and vulnerable.

"Harry, you'll always treat me this well, right? I'm so scared. I heard Eleanor's health has always been poor, and the doctor said it'd be hard for her to have children. If… I mean, if someday she did get pregnant, would you stop loving our baby?"

Harrison patted her back gently, completely unaware of Eleanor standing outside the door, assuming Winona's reaction was just pregnancy-induced anxiety.

"You're overthinking it," he coaxed. "This is my first child. Everything I have in the future will belong to him."

His voice was impossibly gentle, yet every word cut into Eleanor like a blade.

"Even if Eleanor really did have my child, I'd love them just the same. Don't worry."

"Really?" Winona nuzzled closer, her voice filled with satisfaction and delight. "Harry, you're the best."

Outside the door, Eleanor let out a silent scoff.

Love them the same, huh? How generous.

She lowered her gaze to the ultrasound report in her hand, her fingers whitening from the force of her grip.

She would never allow her baby to be tainted by even a trace of this place, and she would never let her child grow up in an environment this pretentious and revolting.

Eleanor calmly pulled out her phone, opened the nursery's surveillance feed, recorded the obscenities, and saved it.

"Mr. Wilbur? It's me, Eleanor. I need you to draft a divorce agreement for me."