SCARLETTMy eyes fluttered open to the sharp smell of antiseptic and the steady beep of machines.Hospital.Again.White ceiling. Pale blue walls. IV line taped to the back of my hand. Thin blanket over my legs.I blinked slowly, head still foggy, trying to piece together how I’d ended up here.The piano.The sudden pain in my stomach — sharp, twisting, like a knife.My scream.The maid’s panicked face.Then darkness.I tried to sit up.A hand caught mine.I turned.Ethan.He sat beside the bed, eyes red-rimmed, face pale, still in the same shirt from last night. He looked like he hadn’t slept.“Oh, my wife,” he said, voice thick. “Scarlett, are you okay?”I pulled my hand away fast.“Yes,” I said. “You don’t have to act like that. No one saw us here.”He lifted his head, worry flashing across his face.“No, no, I have to act like this. When did you find out? Why did you hide it? Why?”My heart stopped.“What… what do you mean?”He leaned closer.“Oh my god! You don’t know either? You
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