Eddie sipped a white, creamy coffee while sitting in the breakfast corner of the mansion kitchen, looking out the window at the faraway view of the lake. In that land of virescent beauty lay a disc of the brightest blue and gray. Like a mirror on the wall, it was oval and flat, its surface forever guarded against the cold winds and the lush hills around it. At the edge, the land met and carried right on as a perfect reflection. Sipping the coffee, he sighed. He’d learned about the drink while visiting Mexico one summer. It was almost identical to a latte except that it was made with coffee instead of espresso. It had more milk than a café con leche, so the taste was less bitter. There was a paused look of fulfillment on his face as he sipped the warm, toasty flavor. That was something he felt the Europeans had gotten right. They always made time for coffee or tea, particularly in the afternoons. Most Americans viewed it more as an energy drink, something to be gulped and disposed of.

  Still, on the edge of his seat, Shawn asked Eddie to drive past. The ambush earlier was a surprise and he was thankful that he listened to his grandfather and purchased a bulletproof SUV for his everyday use. It was late morning now, and still, he hadn't bought Catherine's exotic jackfruits. "We have to go now, Eddie." "How about the wife's craving, sir?" "I will find a way. But if what you say is true, Elizabeth could be the one behind this." "It was obvious, sir. The bitch wanted you, and she is insane. I was just exploiting her, and I think now she knew that I was never on her side, or not." "Thanks, Eddie, I know I can count on you. But I want you to work with her. I want more of her plan. I think you know what I mean. Right?" Shawn asked. Grateful

"Surprise, Catherine?" Elizabeth asked as she slapped her in the face, making Catherine turn her head sideways and groan in pain. "Bitch! Take that." Another slap,"... you, of all people, took my Shawn away. I am going to enjoy killing you slowly, you know." Elizabeth sneered and pushed Catherine's head. The pain, the concern for her baby — it was all Catherine could think of. The distress takes over a portion of her brain, as if dealing with it was energy-consuming enough without the effort of new thoughts. It stole the part of her and she knew her lips were bleeding, her ears were still ringing from the never-ending slap, and she realized Elizabeth wouldn't let her live. She wanted her dead, but all she could ever think of was the baby on her tummy... Oh God, no! Please let her leave. A silent prayer was the only thing she could do now. She was at her mercy. But knowing Shawn had abandoned her, the pain was palpable: disappointment and sadness mingled, the kind of pain that burns as

 Present time  Catherine couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She knew she needed to think this through twice before choosing something she would later regret. The room still hasn't come into total focus. Her mind was groggy, numbed by something. Was it lack of sleep or something more disturbing? She shook her head to try to clear her mind. The scene cleared, and with that clarity, a terrible feeling crept into her stomach. The man who called himself Javier was now standing at the cell door as a burning, acrid cigarette scent filled the enclosure air and seeped into his nostrils, causing him to wrinkle his nose. "Damn it! I hate these guys." Catherine stood, liquid pooling

 "C-Catherine! You are alive!" Shawn stood at the door, shocked and just staring at her in utter disbelief. Shawn knew he was gaping at her. He had received information from one of his men that he had seen someone like Catherine at Dave's apartment. He even sent a picture. Yes, the picture was not as clear as it should be because it was taken far away, but it definitely looked like his wife, so he arranged a quick flight to his private jet immediately. And no, he wasn't disappointed. There, she was standing at the kitchen door, his wife, Catherine, with very short hair, well-defined feminine muscles that weren't there before, her tummy flat, her eyes cold, raw, and lifeless.  "Catherine?" He whispered under his breath. The only word he could muster. He was at a loss for words because he was not sure how a soul as pure as hers had surviv