LOGINIsla's POV:
My husband, Declan, was on the bed, but he wasn't alone.
My stepsister, Sienna, was straddling him, her blonde hair cascading over her bare shoulders, her hands tangled in his hair, her mouth on his.
His hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer like he couldn't get enough.
The pregnancy results slipped from my fingers, fluttering to the floor.
They didn't notice me at first.
I stood there, frozen in the doorway, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing. My hand moved instinctively to my stomach, to the tiny life growing inside me that I'd been so excited to tell him about.
This couldn't be real.
This couldn't be happening.
Declan's eyes flicked up and met mine.
He didn't scramble. He didn't push her off. He didn't even look guilty. He just stared at me, like I was the one intruding.
Sienna turned her head slowly, following his gaze. When she saw me standing there, a smile spread across her face. That wasn't the look of embarrassment, not shame. Amusement.
"Oh," she said with false sweetness. "You're home early, Isla."
I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. My chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped their hands around my lungs and squeezed.
The baby. I was carrying his baby, and he was here with her.
Declan shifted Sienna off his lap with an irritated sigh, like I'd interrupted something inconvenient. He didn't bother fixing his unbuttoned shirt. He didn't bother looking apologetic.
"Don't just stand there," he said coldly. "Close the door."
My hands shook at my sides.
Sienna laughed, soft and mocking. She stood up from the bed, adjusting her dress like this was nothing. Like I was nothing.
"What?" she said, tilting her head. "Did you really think he loved you? Did you think he actually wanted to touch you?"
The words hit me like physical blows.
"She can't even moan," Sienna continued, her smile widening. "She's mute and damaged. What kind of man wants a wife who can't even make a sound?" She looked back at Declan. "Tell her, darling. Tell her how much you've suffered."
Declan stood, buttoning his shirt with slow, deliberate movements.
"I've been enduring you for years, Isla," he said flatly. "Even before we got married. Do you know how tedious it is? How boring?"
My vision blurred from the sheer impossibility of what I was hearing.
My husband didn't even feel remorseful. Is this what has been going on behind my back?
"Why?" Sienna laughed again. "Why did he marry the barren mute?" She stepped closer to me, her eyes glittering. "Because I told him to, Isla. I told him to marry you, and wait for father to die, and then we get everything. The company. The properties. The inheritance. All of it."
My knees felt weak. I was on the verge of collapsing. I couldn't believe my ears and eyes. Could this be real? Or a dream?
"You were always just a placeholder," Declan said, his voice devoid of emotion. "A means to an end."
My hand moved to my pocket, fumbling for my phone. I needed proof. I needed evidence. I needed to show my father what they'd done, what they were planning.
The pregnancy results still lay on the floor between us, face-up. Sienna's eyes landed on them, and her expression changed instantly.
"What is that?" She bent down, snatching up the paper. Her eyes scanned it quickly, and her face twisted with rage. "You're pregnant?"
I tried to grab the paper back, but she jerked it away.
"You're trying to trap him!" she shrieked. "You think a baby will make him love you? You think this changes anything?"
She crumpled the paper in her fist.
I pulled out my phone with shaking hands, pointing it at them. I needed to record this. I needed someone to know the truth.
Sienna's eyes narrowed the moment she saw the phone.
"What do you think you're doing?"
I held it up higher, my finger hovering over the record button.
Declan's expression darkened. "Put the phone down, Isla."
I shook my head. Not this time. I wasn't backing down. Not when I had a child to protect.
Sienna moved fast, faster than I expected.
She lunged at me, her fingers clawing for the phone.
"Give it to me!" she hissed.
I jerked back, trying to keep it out of her reach, but she grabbed my wrist and yanked hard.
I wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Just my hands moving frantically, desperately, trying to push her away.
"You stupid mute bitch," she snarled, her face contorted with fury. "You think anyone's going to believe you? You think anyone cares about you or that bastard baby?"
Declan didn't help. He just watched, with his arms crossed, like this was beneath him.
Sienna's nails dug into my skin as she twisted my arm. Pain shot up to my shoulder, but I held on tighter to the phone.
"Let go!" she screamed, as she shoved me hard, and I stumbled backward, my heel catching on the edge of the rug.
Everything slowed down, and my back hit the glass coffee table.
The sound of shattering glass filled the room.
Pain exploded across my skull, sharp and blinding. Warmth spread beneath my head, sticky and wet. I could smell the fain scent of blod. Too much blood. I tried to move, I tried to push myself up, but my body wouldn't respond.
Sienna stood over me, breathing hard, my phone now in her hand.
Declan finally moved. He stepped closer, looking down at me with wide eyes. For a moment, I thought I saw fear.
"Sienna," he said, his voice shaking. "What did you do?"
"What she deserved," Sienna said coldly. She crouched down beside me, and to my horror, she smiled.
Her hand reached out, gently petting my hair like I was a child.
"Oh, Isla," she whispered. "You could have just let it go. You could have pretended you didn't see anything. Then you would have still been alive."
My vision was fading. The room was getting darker. My hand moved weakly and slowly to my stomach. The baby. Our baby.
"Come on, Declan," Sienna said, standing up. She grabbed his arm. "Let's go. She's already gone."
"But.." Declan stared at me, frozen.
"It was an accident," Sienna said firmly, dragging him toward the door. "She fell. That's all. We'll find a way to cover it up. She's mute after all."
I watched them leave through blurring vision. The door closed, and I was alone now.
The cold was spreading through me now, starting in my fingers and toes and crawling inward toward my heart.
I'm sorry, I thought, my hand still resting on my stomach. I'm so sorry, little one.
The darkness swallowed me whole.
Isla's POV:Alexander was warm against my chest and heavier than I'd expected for such a tiny person and his eyes were searching in the unfocused way of someone encountering light for the first time.I held him with both arms and looked at his small face and the feeling was not like anything I had a word for in my vocabulary.Not love in the way I'd understood love before with Callum or Rosie or even my mother, this was something older and more instinctive and so large it sat slightly outside the boundaries of language.It was protective and fierce and consuming in a way that felt like it had always existed somewhere deep inside me just waiting for this moment to emerge."He's perfect," I whispered and my voice was rough from crying and exhaustion.Callum was beside me laughing and crying at the same time and kissing my face and saying things I caught in pieces."You did it," he said. "You were so strong.""We have a son," I said still marveling at the reality of it."We have a son,"
Callum's POV:Two hours of pushing and I held Isla's hand through all of it and did not look at the monitor and did not do any of the things the fear in me wanted to do.The fear wanted me to leave the room and be somewhere that was not here and not watching the woman I loved in this much pain.The fear wanted me to demand interventions and ask for constant updates and spiral into panic about everything that could go wrong.But I stayed and I breathed when she breathed and I said the things the childbirth class had told me to say and I meant them which turned out to matter."You're so strong," I said. "You can do this.""One more push," I encouraged. "You're almost there."The fear that had been sitting in my chest since the moment Isla told me she was pregnant was a specific and familiar shape and it had Sarah's name written all over it.I didn't push it away because I'd learned that pushing it away gave it more room than acknowledging it did.I held the fear alongside everything els
Callum's POV:Eleanor arrived on a Sunday afternoon with two large bags that suggested a longer stay than the one month she'd originally mentioned and I helped her carry them up to the guest room we'd prepared.She took over the kitchen within four hours in a way that was entirely benevolent and efficient and which I found to my genuine surprise a relief rather than an intrusion.I'd expected to feel managed or like she was overstepping boundaries but instead I felt like something had been handled that I didn't know I needed handled.She organized the pantry and restocked things we'd been running low on and made a grocery list of items we'd need once the baby came and did it all without asking permission or making it feel like criticism of how we'd been managing.Rosie was ecstatic about having her grandmother staying with us and followed Eleanor from room to room like a very small and very verbal shadow."Grandma what are you doing now?" Rosie asked."Making a lasagna for the freezer
Isla's POV:Eight months pregnant and I'd made peace with the fact that I was uncomfortable and that comfort was not something I was going to recover until after the baby was born.My back protested by ten in the morning every day no matter how I positioned myself at my desk or how many times I stood up to stretch.My sleep was fragmented and shallow because I couldn't find a comfortable position and Alexander decided the middle of the night was the perfect time to practice gymnastics.I'd been wearing the same two pairs of maternity pants in rotation for three weeks because they were the only ones that accommodated my stomach properly and I'd decided I didn't care about fashion anymore.I was underneath all the discomfort deeply happy and these two states were not contradictory, they were just both true at the same time.The baby shower was organized by Eleanor and Patricia and held on a Saturday afternoon at our apartment.Eleanor had transformed the space with decorations I hadn't
Callum's POV:The board met Thursday morning to review Isla's maternity leave transition plan and I sat at the head of the table waiting to see if anyone would raise concerns.The plan was thorough and well-organized with clear delegation of responsibilities and backup coverage for every scenario.Jennifer Park would take lead on strategic reviews, Sophie Martinez would handle team management, and Richard Hayes would provide oversight to ensure continuity.The board members reviewed the documentation I'd distributed and asked a few clarifying questions but nobody raised significant objections."This is a solid plan," one board member said. "The coverage is comprehensive and the team seems capable."The approval came without lengthy discussion which was the best possible outcome because it meant the plan was strong enough to speak for itself.Richard Hayes used the end of the meeting to suggest something I hadn't anticipated."The division Isla leads has consistently exceeded performan
Isla's POV:Twenty-four weeks, the number meant something specific in medical terms and I knew exactly what it meant because I'd looked it up when I was six weeks pregnant and had been keeping quiet track since then.Viability, the point where a baby born prematurely had a real chance of survival with medical intervention, it was a milestone that mattered more to me than I wanted to admit out loud.I didn't mention the milestone to Callum in those terms because I didn't want him to know how precisely I'd been monitoring the calendar and counting down to this specific point.Instead I mentioned it to Patricia on the phone when she called to check in on how I was feeling."I'm twenty-four weeks today," I said casually.There was a brief pause and then Patricia said "good" in a tone that carried weight.She knew about my pregnancy in the other timeline and how I'd died at six weeks before I even knew what it meant to be carrying a child.Twenty-four weeks meant this baby had crossed int
Isla's POV:I arrived at the coffee shop twenty minutes early because I couldn't sit still at home any longer.The place was quiet on Saturday morning, just a few people scattered at tables with their laptops and coffee.I chose a table in the back corner where I could see the entrance and waited,
Callum's POV:Tomorrow was the board meeting.Tomorrow I'd either save my company or watch everything I'd built over the past decade crumble.The presentation sat on my laptop, ready to go. Every piece of evidence organized and documented.My legal team had prepared for every possible angle Gerald
Isla's POV:My hands were shaking as I pulled up the cloud storage account I'd created years ago and barely used.I uploaded the document, watching the progress bar crawl across the screen with agonizing slowness. Eventually, the upload finished. I checked twice to make sure it was there, safely
Isla's POV:I woke up before the sun.My eyes opened in the dark and for a moment I just lay there, staring at the ceiling and listening to the house settle around me.I heard no voices through the wall this time,just heavy silence, thick and heavy, the kind that presses down on you until you have







