4

“Sera… what do you mean?”

Seraphine couldn't hold back anymore. All her defenses crumbled. Tears finally spilled over. "Yes Dad… I'm pregnant. It's Arthurs. Arthur Ashford.”

A suffocating silence fell over their unfamiliar house. She was four months along. Her belly was already too big to hide. She couldn't lie to her father forever.

With triplets her belly was already too big to hide beneath sweaters. She couldn’t keep this from her father forever.

Mark’s face turned white. He gasped for air his hands clawing at the space between them.

Pregnant. With the child of the man who had left her at the altar. The man who had humiliated their family.

“Y-you…" Mark’s voice was shaky. "You’re pregnant… with that man’s child Sera?”

“Dad please listen… let me explain…”

“God…" Mark grabbed his chest his face contorting in pain.

It wasn't physical pain. It was guilt. A crushing weight. His past mistakes were catching up. Because of him his daughter was paying the price. They had lost everything. Moved to another city.. Now she was carrying the child of their enemy.

“Dad! Dad, calm down! Breathe, please!" Panic gripped her. She took his hand. It was ice-cold. "I've thought about this. We're safe now Dad. Arthur will never find out about the babies. We can raise them. I'm strong Dad. I can do this… I promise!”

She was talking fast her voice shaking as she tried to reassure him.. Mark couldn't hear her. He was consumed by guilt.

“Forgive me Sera… I'm so sorry…" Marks breaths came shorter. His eyes locked onto the ceiling. "I… ruined… your life…”

“Dad!" Seraphine screamed as his body went rigid then limp. His fingers slipped from her grip.

He was gone. Unconscious.

“Dad! Wake up! Don't do this… I'm scared!" She shook his shoulders her vision blurring with tears. "Chloe! Chloe, help! Dad! Chloe, hurry!”

Chloe burst into the bedroom. She went pale at the sight of Mark. Dropping to her knees she checked his pulse.

“Sera call emergency services now!" Chloe ordered, starting chest compressions.

Seraphine dialed, choking out their address through sobs.

The ambulance arrived within ten minutes. Paramedics rushed in transferred Marks body to a stretcher and took him away.

In the ambulance Seraphine held her fathers hand. With her hand she clutched her stomach. The shock triggered a cramp.

When they reached hospital, Seraphine collapsed into a chair. Chloe sat beside her wrapping an arm around her.

“Chloe I’m so scared…”

“Just pray, Sera. Pray for him.”

Two hours passed before the doctor came out. A middle-aged doctor with a look.

Seraphine forced herself up ignoring the dizziness. "Doctor… how is he?”

The doctor pulled down his mask. "Are you his daughter?”

“Yes. I'm his daughter. How is he Doctor…”

The doctor shook his head. "We tried everything. His heart was already weak. The attack was too severe.”

The hospital corridor fell silent. A sharp ringing pierced her ears.

“He was pronounced dead at four o’clock. I'm so sorry for your loss.”

Dead. The word hit her like a blow. Seraphine’s knees gave out. Chloe caught her.

“Sera! Sera, oh my God stay with me!" Chloe held her tight.

Seraphine went numb. The shock was brutal. Her tears dried up. Her chest tightened.

“No… no it's not true…" she whispered, shaking her head. "He promised he’d stay with me. He promised he’d get better…”

Then she broke down. A raw sob tore from her throat. She wept into Chloe’s shoulder.

He was gone. The only person who truly loved her was dead. The last thing her father heard was the shame of her pregnancy. Guilt ate her alive.

Amid the grief a sharp pang flared in her abdomen. The three tiny lives inside her reacted to her agony.

Instinctively Seraphine pressed her hands against her stomach. Sitting on the floor of a hospital at the lowest point of her existence a harsh reality hit her. She wasn't just living for herself anymore.

*

*

Mark Anderson’s funeral was held under a Boston sky. A small crowd of business associates and journalists hovered near the cemetery gates.

Seraphine stood by the gravesite. She had buttoned her winter coat all the way up shielding her growing belly. Oversized sunglasses and a black mesh veil hid her eyes.

Beside her Chloe was an anchor. Her arm was locked tightly in Seraphine’s.

The priest’s low drone of prayers was barely audible over the whispering crowd.

Then someone stepped into her vision.

The scent of masculine cologne hit her first. Her pulse spiked.

Arthur Ashford.

He stood next to her looking down at the casket.

Arthur didn't suspect a thing. To him her bulky coat and heavy veil were just mourning attire. He slipped his hands into his coat pockets a smirk touching his lips.

“I’m happy for you Sera " Arthur murmured. "The old man is finally gone. His debt to my family is paid.”

Chloe tensed. Her jaw. She would have reacted if Seraphine hadn’t held her back.

Arthur turned his head trying to see her face. "The old man is gone. Your family assets are gone. You have nothing left Sera. You're just waiting for your turn to die.. When that day comes I'll send flowers to your grave.”

The venom spilled from his mouth effortlessly.

“Oh… I almost forgot " Arthur added, his tone dripping with politeness. "You should come to my wedding. It's in three days. The wedding I’ve been looking forward to with my fiancée. Thank you for the wealth your father handed over to me yesterday. My wife and I will put it to use.”

Seraphine didn’t flinch. Her grip on Chloe remained firm. She knew what kind of monster Arthur Ashford was and she refused to react.

“. One last thing " Arthur said, leaning in closer before turning to leave. "Thanks for being a placeholder while I waited for my girlfriend to come home. You weren't half bad, in bed. If you decide not to follow your father into the ground look me up. I might just keep you around.”

He walked away his laugh cutting through the morning air.

Seraphine didn’t move. Her eyes remained locked on the earth burying her father’s casket.

Behind the veil her expression hardened into granite. Her tears were gone replaced by an emptiness. Beneath her coat Seraphine’s hand dropped, anchoring tightly against her stomach.