POV: AmeliaTwo hours earlier…The pain came first.A twisting, cramping feeling low in my belly that dragged me out of sleep like a scream. At first, I thought maybe I’d slept in a weird position—maybe the baby was just moving.But then I saw the blood.I stood up on shaky legs, heart hammering, and rushed to the bathroom. It was there, bright red against the white of my underwear, smeared on my inner thighs. I stared at it like I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Like if I blinked hard enough, it would vanish.It didn’t.The world tilted.I remember sitting down. I remember my hands trembling as I tried to wipe it away, like maybe if I cleaned it fast enough, it wouldn’t mean anything. Maybe it wouldn’t mean that.The door creaked open, and I couldn’t even find my voice to call out. Then Ethan’s face appeared, his brows pinched in concern.“Amelia?”When he saw me—curled on the floor, blood staining my shorts—his whole body froze.“Oh my God.”And then he moved fast. Down on the
POV: EthanI got to the coffee shop ten minutes early.Couldn’t sit still.Couldn’t stop tapping my fingers on the table, like they might beat out a rhythm that made sense of what the hell was happening.Ryan had sounded...off last night. Not angry. Not cold. Just—off. Like something had broken in his voice. And now he wanted to meet alone? That never meant anything good.He walked in exactly on time, gripping a folded paper in his hand. His jaw was tight, eyes bloodshot. Not tired—wrecked.“Morning,” I said, unsure how to begin.He didn’t reply. Just dropped into the chair opposite me and placed the paper between us.“You see this?” he asked, voice flat.I reached for it slowly, eyes scanning the words. A blood compatibility request. From the hospital. Proving that he was indeed my brother.I looked up at him. “What exactly is the problem? The tests result match now, don’t they?”“Yeah. They called me yesterday. Said there was some issue with the first results. Something about contam
POV: AmeliaI found him on the balcony later that night. He had not gone to sleep.His hand gripped the railing like it was the only thing holding him up, and it probably was, that was what broke me.I didn’t say his name right away. Just stood at the threshold, watching his back rise and fall in quiet, measured breaths. Like if he didn’t control them, he’d shatter.“Ethan,” I said finally.He turned. Slowly. Like he didn’t want to face me but couldn’t stand to keep his back to me either.His eyes were tired. Not from lack of sleep—but from carrying too much.“What did your father say?” I asked, my voice gentle, not pushing, but not letting him retreat either.Ethan didn’t answer immediately. His jaw clenched. Then unclenched. He looked past me, like if he stared hard enough into the distance, he could disappear.“He said I’m just… a body now,” he murmured.I stepped closer. The cool air pressed between us, but I didn’t let it win.“A burden,” he continued. “A reminder of everything t
POV: Ethan “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t come here unannounced,” my father said without turning away from the window. His voice, cool and clipped, carried the same frost it always had when it came to me.“I called,” I replied. My hand tightened on the head of my cane as I crossed the threshold of his study. “Your secretary said you were free.”“Free, yes. Willing, no.”He turned then. Steel-gray eyes landed on me like a slap. No warmth. No welcome. Just the same familiar weight of disappointment he wore like a second skin.I stayed silent. He hated when I flinched. I didn’t give him the satisfaction.“You’ve lost weight,” he said flatly. “You look like hell.”“Good to see you too.”He scoffed, the sound dismissive. “Cut the sarcasm. What do you want now? More time? Another speech about how you ‘meant well’ last month when you nearly flushed the company down the goddamn toilet?”I didn’t move. I had prepared for this—at least I thought I had.“You know I didn’t sell it,” I said ca
POV: Amelia"I watched Ethan sleep with one hand curled over his stomach, his other arm flung across my pillow. He didn’t look like a man plotting revenge — he looked like a boy trying to survive grief."The pillow beneath his head had a faint streak of red from the cut he’d gotten two days ago when he threw a glass across the room. That cut was healing. I wasn’t sure the rest of him was.I slid out from under the blanket and pressed my feet to the cool floor. My back ached in that odd, hollow way it had for days now, and I touched my belly without meaning to.Still quiet. Still new.I padded into the bathroom and shut the door. I didn’t flush. I didn’t brush my teeth. I just stared at my face. There was a smudge of mascara under one eye and a healing bite mark on my shoulder. Ethan had clung to me like I was the only thing keeping him from drowning.I lied to him yesterday.Not about the pregnancy. That truth was already out.But I had gone back to the hospital, and I hadn’t told him
POV: Ethan“There’s no way this is right,” Ryan barked. “Run the test again. I’m not some bastard off the street.”Dr. Levin kept her voice even. “We ran it twice. Same result. You’re not a compatible donor.”Ryan’s face flushed red, and he paced the small waiting area like a caged animal. “You don’t know what you’re doing. I’ve been his son for thirty-five years. I share his name. His goddamn nose.”“And yet,” I said quietly, “your blood doesn’t share his markers.”He turned on me. “Oh, I see. You’re loving this, aren’t you?”“No,” I said flatly. “I’m not.”Because I wasn’t. I felt like I was watching something crack that had always been cracked—I’d just never seen the fracture line before.Dr. Levin tried to step between us. “I understand this is shocking. Sometimes—rarely—blood incompatibility can reveal complex familial discrepancies. It doesn’t mean you aren’t family in other ways.”“Don’t talk to me like I’m some case study,” Ryan spat. “You don’t know shit about our family.”I