1. Evil Wife

"Yes, Father... Yes. I still need to recover."

Her father's voice poured through the phone in an unbroken stream, rising and falling, ranting one moment and pleading the next. Nadine could barely make out the words anymore. Her body ached in a hundred small places, but none of it compared to the loneliness that sat on her chest like a stone.

Then her father's voice cracked into a shout, and the sound sent a fresh wave of pain spinning through her skull.

"Father…"

She tried to cut in, tried to make him stop long enough to listen. It didn't work. The louder he got, the more a single sound echoed behind her eyes, ‘bang‘ over and over, like a door slamming somewhere deep in her memory.

She couldn't bear it any longer. What she needed was sleep, not another lecture from a man who, in her eyes, had never once cared enough to ask if she was all right simply. The anger she'd been swallowing for days finally broke loose.

"Father!!!"

It worked. Silence dropped over the line so suddenly it was almost its own kind of noise.

"Can we talk about this later? I still need to recover."

Her father said nothing, and for a moment she almost felt relief. Almost. This was the seventh call he'd made from abroad in the two weeks she'd been trapped in that stiff hospital bed. Seven calls that had drifted from soft, careful condolences to something closer to the raving of an old man who'd misplaced something precious and blamed everyone but himself. His rant makes her pain more miserable.

"Nadine... where is your husband?"

She had no answer for him. She let the silence stretch, and that silence lit the fuse of his temper all over again.

"Is he with his mistress? Again?"

She didn't react. Instead, she turned her face toward the window, watching the leaves outside let go of their branches one by one, spinning lazily on currents of wind she couldn't feel. They looked almost joyful, dancing their way to the ground. It was such a stark contrast to the room around her. A spacious room heavy with loneliness, grief, and a slow-burning anger that had nowhere left to go.

"How dare he not be with you right now!"

His voice cracked against the walls and mixed with the steady tick-tock of the wall clock, the only other sound in the room.

"He just lost his daughter! How can that jerk not be by your side?"

"...Son."

The single word landed like a stone in still water. Her father went quiet, the kind of quiet that comes from a wound reopened.

"Nadine..."

His voice, when it returned, had lost its edge. All the fury had drained out of it the moment her broken voice reached him.

"Are you finished, Father?"

No answer came.

"You're no different from him. You're not here with me. You've never really been here with me. All you want is to make sure he doesn't cause a scandal…  Isn't that right?"

She ended the call without waiting for a reply, leaving her father's worry hanging unanswered on the other end of the line. She'd noticed someone standing near the door since the call began.

"You can come in."

A nurse stepped inside to check on her. Nadine's expression didn't change, still the same flat, distant mask she'd worn for days.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. When will I be discharged?"

The nurse blinked, caught off guard by the question, but recovered with a gentle smile.

"I only just walked in. You'll be free to leave this afternoon."

Then she was gone again, and the loneliness folded back around Nadine like a blanket. She let herself hope, just for a moment, that the next person through that door would be her husband, come to take her home. But hope like that was foolish. She was the reason their child hadn't lived. She was the one who had let their baby die.

"Miss... Sir Henry sent us to bring you home."

Three figures stood at the foot of her bed, two broad-shouldered men flanking a small, slight woman. The woman looked older than Nadine, judging by the lines on her face, yet her tiny frame gave her an almost youthful air.

"Oh, Anna. Did my father really send you? Or did you come out of pity?"

Anna offered no reply. She simply stood, patient, waiting for whatever order Nadine would give.

"Haaah... fine. Pack my things. We'll leave this afternoon. Do it quietly. I'm going to rest a while."

Anna let out a soft sigh before answering, her voice gentle as ever.

"Yes, Miss."

She moved through the room methodically, folding clothes into the suitcase with practiced hands. She'd been the one at Nadine's side all week, the only one who'd seen the fierce, unbreakable Nadine Merrick dissolve into tears each night, cursing herself for the choice that had brought her here.

"Sleep well, Nana."

The old nickname, spoken so softly, pulled Nadine down into sleep before she could resist. In the dream waiting for her, everything was warm again, her husband greeting her each morning with that smile she used to trust completely. But dreams, like memories, turn cruel without warning. Suddenly, he was gone, replaced by the image of him walking away with another woman on his arm, and something ugly and desperate rose in her chest.

"What's mine stays mine. Especially you, Adrian!"

She screamed the words into the emptiness of the dream and snatched up a small bottle from beside her. She just meant it only as a threat, a way to make him come home, to warn him that she'd end the pregnancy if he didn't. That had been the plan. But grief and rage have a way of swallowing plans whole, and before she understood what she was doing, her hand was already tipping pill after pill into her palm.

"Mommy, don't! Don't you love me?"

A small boy appeared in the dream, round-cheeked and trembling, clutching the fabric of her sleeve. His voice cracked with pleading. But the rage inside her had already taken the wheel, and she felt nothing for the child in front of her.

"Love? Your father doesn't love you. So why should I?"

His small hand tightened around hers, tugging desperately, trying to pull the bottle from her grip.

"But I love you, Mommy!"

She shoved him away, hard enough that he stumbled and fell. She felt no guilt watching him hit the floor. Instead, a cold laugh spilled out of her.

"I don't need your love. I thought having you would make your father love me. But it doesn't work that way, does it? So maybe it's better if I just... let you go."

He scrambled back toward her one more time, small hands reaching for the bottle, trying to stop what was already set in motion. But it was too late. She swallowed the pills, and the boy's face crumpled with a sorrow too old for someone so young.

"Mom... goodbye."

Tears rolled down his round cheeks, his expression heartbroken in a way that didn't belong to a child.

"Until we meet again, Mom. I'll always love you. And Daddy will always treasure you."

The dream shattered around her. Regret flooded in where the rage had been, crushing and immediate, and she screamed into the void left behind, reaching for a child already slipping out of reach.

"NO! DON'T GO!"

Darkness swallowed everything. No sound. No light. Just an endless, suffocating black.

"Miss!!!"

A voice cut through it . It sounds faint, distant, but real.

"Miss!!!"

Anna's voice. Still, Nadine could see nothing.

"Nana!!!"

The old childhood nickname again, the one only her parents had used, back when the world was simple.

"Nana, wake up!!!"

That final word tore her out of the dark. Anna's face swam into focus above her, etched with fear, her hand gripping Nadine's arm hard enough to leave the skin numb. The dream lingered at the edges of her mind, refusing to let go.

Her eyes clouded over again, but this time no tears fell. She peeled Anna's fingers from her arm, and something in her settled into resolve.

"It's time. Let's go home. I have accounts to settle."

Anna stepped back without argument and moved to help her change, preparing to finally leave that room that had held nothing but fear.