INICIAR SESIÓN[Alice's POV]"And I've already told you —"He stopped himself. Took a calming breath. The anger was there, simmering beneath the surface, but he was holding it back with a visible effort that I recognized from the worst days of our marriage. The days when he wanted to shout and chose not to, when he wanted to control and was learning, slowly and imperfectly, that control was not the same as love."The review first," he said. "Then we talk."I wanted to argue. I wanted to scream. I wanted to rip the IV from my arm and walk out of this gilded prison and find my way back to my villa, back to Adam, back to the life I had chosen. The life that was slipping away from me with every hour I spent in this silk-wrapped cell.But my body was not my own anymore. The anesthetic had left me weak and disoriented, and the cancer had left me something worse — hollow, thin. I was a husk of the woman I had been, running on stubbornness and fury and the faint, precious flutter of the life inside me.So,
[Alice's POV]"Replaced?" The word was a slap. Harder than anything anyone had ever said to me. "You think a child can be replaced?""I think a living child is worth more than an unborn one. I think a mother who can love and raise and protect her daughter is worth more than a pregnancy that ends buried in the ground. And I think you know that, Alice. I think you know it, but you're too stubborn and too proud and too goddamn self-sacrificing to admit it."I stared at him. The fury was still there, burning in my chest like a furnace, but it was warring now with something else. The terrible, unavoidable knowledge that he wasn't entirely wrong. That the choice I was making was not rational. That the instinct driving me — the primal, animal refusal to let go of the life growing inside me— was not rooted in logic or medical science but in something deeper and older and much, much more dangerous.But it was my instinct. My body. And my choice.And no one, not Adam, not David, not even the be
[Alice's POV]"Clinic La Prairie," David said. "Private facility. Best medical care in Switzerland, possibly the world. I had you transferred an hour ago.""Transferred?" The word ignited something in my chest. A spark of fury cut through the fog of the anesthetic. "I didn't authorize a transfer. I didn't —""You were unconscious. You couldn't authorize anything.""Because someone drugged me!" I tried to sit up, but the anesthetic was still lingering in my system. My muscles were uncooperative, my body felt heavy and unresponsive. "That nurse — that wasn't saline. She anesthetized me! Without my consent. David, that's assault. That's —""That was my doing."The words hit me like a second wave of anesthetic, cold, paralyzing, suffocating."I authorized the sedation," David said. His voice was calm. Controlled. The voice of a man who had made a decision and was prepared to defend it. "You were refusing treatment. You were refusing to listen to reason. I made a medical decision on your b
[Alice's POV]I was dreaming of lilacs.It was always lilacs now, in any fractured, thin sleep I was able to snatch in the bustling hospital ward.The purple clusters hung heavy on the branch, the scent cloying and sweet. I saw a church I had never been to, and a dress I had never worn. There was a man whose face I couldn't see, waiting for me at the altar. In the dream, I was whole. My belly was flat, my wrists were unscarred, and my body was my own — not a battleground, not a sacrifice, not a vessel for disease and life fighting for the same territory.I would stay in the dream, if I could. But the pain always pulled me back.I woke to the beep of the monitor and the faint afternoon light filtering through the window. The room was quiet. Adam was gone. He had been here earlier. His chair empty, the impression of his weight was still visible in the cushion. I assumed he was making phone calls, arguing with Dr. Ibanez, fighting for access to my personal medical records with his usual
[David's POV]"I want you to convince her to live,” Adam urged."And if she won't?" I countered."Then we find another way. But we can't let her die, David. Not like this. Not if we can stop it."The corridor fell quiet. Lily had gone silent, her expression shifting from theatrical concern to something sharper and more calculating as she watched us closely.I looked at Adam for a long time. Then I felt my fists unclenching, the tension in my shoulders shifting — not disappearing, but redirecting, turning from violence toward something more dangerous."Fine," I said. "You're a bastard. And I'll work with a bastard if it saves her life."---------I hadn't wanted to come to the hospital today.That was the thing that kept echoing in my mind as we stood in the corridor. My knuckles were throbbing; I could feel my heart hammering. The taste of shock and rage were still sharp on my tongue.I hadn't wanted to come to the hospital today. It was Lily's twelve-week scan. It was just a routine
[Adam's POV]The corridor smells like antiseptic and despair.I’m standing outside Alice’s hospital room with my back pressed against the wall. I can see her through the narrow window in the door. She’s asleep. She’s exhausted from all the tests, from the sheer effort of keeping a body alive that was determined to tear itself apart from the inside.Fifteen percent.That number echoes in my skull like a death knell. It means an eighty-five percent chance of a world without Alice in it. Fifteen percent means I would probably be standing at a graveside, instead of an altar. The dream I’ve carried for a decade — the church with the lilacs, her head on my chest, a life built from the rubble of our respective disasters — would evaporate like morning dew.But I have made a promise. “Okay. Together. We fight together.”I have pledged to lead the battle with her. To stand by her side, no matter what gets thrown our way.But how did you fight an enemy that also needs a lifeline? How do you wage
[Alice’s POV]The interview room at the detention center was colder than the interrogation room.The walls were unadorned slate gray, with a long, heavy metal table bolted to the floor and two plastic chairs with arms, one either side of the table. The air was filled with the odor of disinfectant a
[Alice's POV]The incandescent lights in the hospital corridor seemed to sway in front of my eyes, blurring into a dazzling halo.I sat on a chair in the waiting area, my hands tightly clasped, my fingertips digging hard into the skin of the back of my hands.The pain in my abdomen had turned into
[Alice’s POV]“What I see,” David said, enunciating each word, “is that my wife dropped the medicine Lily shouldn’t have taken, from her pocket, and my daughter said you gave it to Lily. Now, Lily, who almost died, is generously excusing you before falling unconscious again.”He glared at me. “Alic
[David’s POV]Alice stood up, easing Camilla onto her feet at the same time. Her movements were a bit slow, and she even staggered for a moment. I immediately wanted to support her, and when I raised my arm to lend support, she seemed to be startled. She pulled away from me.Her gaze was lowered, s







