ANMELDEN[David’s POV]The impact of those words was precise. “He can’t be without a father…” not “I need you,” not “we should be together,” but “he.”Pushing the child to the forefront, hiding herself behind the baby. That way, any refusal would amount to rejecting an unborn child, not rejecting her.I didn’t speak.I wasn’t thinking about how to respond; I was feeling something inside my body. It was heavy, pressing against my chest like a slab of lead. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what that slab of lead was… not anger, not sadness, not guilt.It was a more primal, more chaotic feeling. Like standing at a crossroads where you can’t see the end of either path, with someone pushing you from behind and someone pulling you from the front — you’re caught in the middle, unable to move.Camila’s smiling face flashed through my mind. Then Alice, heavy with child, head down, looking at documents in the conference room. Then the sky-blue treehouse in that old oak. Then the signed custody transfer
[David’s POV]The private doctor’s office was located in a detached villa, in the southern part of the city. There were no signs or directional markers; from the outside, it looked like an ordinary residence. But the facilities inside were even more complete than those in a public hospital’s VIP ward… This was privacy bought at a high price. No reception desk, no waiting area, no other patients. You drive in, go straight to the examination room, see the doctor, and leave. You never have to come into contact with anyone unrelated to your visit.I sat in the leather chair in the examination room, with Lily beside me.Dr. Morrison was in his sixties, balding, and wore gold-rimmed glasses. He was my family doctor and had been treating me since I was seventeen. He knows my entire medical history, my allergies, and even which anesthetics I have adverse reactions to. He’s also one of the very few people in the world I trust… not because he’s particularly noble, but because he charges enough
[David’s POV]It was 6:12 a.m. when the doorbell rang.This wasn’t a good sign. No one should be ringing my doorbell at 6:12 a.m. My secretary knows I don’t check my emails until 8:00 a.m., the cleaning lady has a key and doesn’t need to ring the bell, and as for Lily… she doesn’t have the code for my building’s entry system; the last time she came over, I opened the door for her myself.I sat up in bed, stepped barefoot onto the floor, crossed the hallway, and headed through the house to the front door. At the press of a button, the video doorbell screen lit up.Showing Lily.She was standing outside my door wearing no makeup, her hair loose, dressed in a gray cardigan and pajama bottoms. It wasn’t a carefully staged ‘no-makeup’ look — it was the real thing… her lips were chapped, dark circles hung under her eyes, and her face was as pale as a sheet of paper.One of her hands was clutching the doorframe.Not holding on for support, but clutching it. Her knuckles were white, as if she
[Alice’s POV]3:15 p.m. The school doors swung open.The children poured out like beans spilled from a bag — big and small, tall and short, carrying colorful backpacks. Some were laughing, some were running, and some were racing their friends to see who could reach the gate first. Parents waited outside the gate, craning their necks to spot their children, like a flock of penguins peering out from the water’s edge.I stood at the entrance to the café beside the parking lot, with a clear view of the entire school gate.I didn’t push my way forward. I just stood there, holding the little pink water bottle Camila had left in the car.The children came out one by one. I scanned them one by one… not to recognize faces, but to find those two little pigtails.Three minutes. Four minutes. Five minutes.The crowd began to thin. Most of the children had already been collected by their parents; the school entrance went from crowded to empty, with only a few scattered children left waiting.Then
[Alice’s POV]“I know.”“I can’t do what you do.”“You don’t need to.”“...Alright.” He exhaled. “So, what are you doing right now?”“Taking Camila to school.”“Oh.” He paused. “Do you need help? I could...”“No, thanks. You’ve got plenty on your plate. The coordination plan for the International Aid Alliance isn’t finalized yet, is it? It’s due by Friday.”“How do you know it’s Friday?”“Because you said so at the meeting last week.”Another silence fell. This time, the nature of the silence was different. It wasn’t the silence of anger, nor was it the silence of confusion. It was a silence born of not knowing how to continue, tinged with something else.“Alice?”“Mm-hmm.”“You really are… amazing.”He hung up as soon as he finished speaking.I put down my phone and watched the screen go dark. My own face appeared on the black screen… dark circles under my eyes, cheekbones slightly more prominent than six months ago, lips a bit dry. Eight months pregnant — not a pretty sight. But my
[Alice’s POV]I was packing Camila’s backpack when Endall called.“Alice, can you check your phone right now?”His voice sounded off. It wasn’t the panic of someone facing an emergency, but rather a restrained tone — as if something were weighing him down, and he were forcing his anger back with sheer willpower.I’d heard that voice before.The last time he’d sounded like that was when someone questioned the sample size of the R4310 experiment on an academic forum. He’d picked apart every single reference the person cited, point by point, until the other party slunk away and deleted their post.“What’s up?”“I sent a link to your email. Take a look now. Call me back after you’ve read it.”He cut the call.I opened my email. The top message in my inbox had no subject line, just a URL. I clicked on it.The page took three seconds to load. Three seconds later, an article appeared on my screen.It was posted on an anonymous whistleblower site I’d never heard of. The interface was crude —
[Alice's POV] The double mahogany doors of the conference room clicked shut behind us, sealing away the suffocating undercurrent swirling in the boardroom. The silence in the hallway was immediate and jarring, broken only by the distant hum of the HVAC system and the frantic beating of my own hea
[Alice's POV]The silence that fell over the room was absolute.It wasn't a peaceful silence. It was heavy, charged, like the air before a thunderstorm. I stood there on the plush pedestal, feeling ridiculously exposed. The lights were too bright, highlighting every flaw, every hollowed-out curve o
[David’s POV]The scotch didn't help. If anything, it just sharpened the edges of my anger.I paced the length of the suite, the plush carpeting doing nothing to muffle the storm raging inside my head. Lily’s refusal hung over me like a toxic cloud. “I won't sign them! I won’t let you do this!”She
[Alice’s POV]The fever was a living thing inside me, a beast trying to claw its way out, tearing through tissue and nerve with every ragged breath I took. The contrast was agonizing — fire in my blood, ice on my skin. The cold air of the bunker bit into my exposed face, sharp and unforgiving, whil







