chapter 4

I continued, “We can’t destroy a healthy, well-formed child for a man who is already dying.”

Margaret’s wrinkled face contorted, her eyes bulging. “What rubbish!” she screamed, her hand arcing toward my cheek.

I caught her wrist midair and met her glare head-on.

“Mom, didn’t you hear Autumn? Colin may not survive even with surgery.”

I cupped my belly, letting my eyes shimmer. “If the operation fails, the baby is gone and Colin is gone. The Sorrell family name would end right there.”

“I already have a grand—” Margaret blurted, her gaze flicking to my stomach with chilling indifference.

Autumn tugged on her sleeve at once, panic flashing across her face before she could hide it.

I saw every detail and laughed inside, but it still wasn’t time to expose them.

Autumn grasped my hand again, forcing a nervous smile.

“Vivian, you misunderstood. I overreacted because I was worried. Colin can be saved; once the transplant is done, he’ll live a long, healthy life.”

Margaret caught the cue at once and rounded on Autumn with a show of scolding indignation.

She wagged a finger at Autumn, then patted my barely-there bump. “Autumn, how could you overreact and frighten Vivian? Viv, you can have another child, but Colin must be saved. Terminate this pregnancy and donate the kidney to save him.”

Margaret arranged her features into a mask of tender concern while her eyes lingered on my abdomen.

“Besides,” she continued. “You used to say childbirth terrified you. An abortion hurts far less than labor. Look how slim and beautiful you are now—once that belly grows, you will lose your shape.”

The corners of her mouth lifted, pleased with what she considered flawless logic.

I answered with a silent, icy laugh, remembering how she had spent years simmering strange herbal tonics for me while chanting, “Women are born to serve their husbands and raise children. If they avoid childbirth because of pain, they are worthless. You married into our family, so you must obey me, your mother-in-law.”

I cupped my stomach and sighed as though resigned.

“But my body is weak,” I said. “The doctor warned that if I miscarry now, I will never conceive again, which means I can no longer give the Sorrell family an heir.”

Margaret seized my hand at once.

“Even if you never carry another child, it is all right,” she assured me, squeezing my fingers. “Saving Colin makes you our benefactor.” Looking at George, she added, “Hubby, speak up and let the girl know we are grateful.”

“Indeed,” George said, nodding hard. “We can only thank you. If you still want a child later, we can adopt, and Margaret and I will be fully supportive.”

His eyes flicked toward Autumn for a split second, quick and calculating.

I caught the meaning at once. They planned for me to adopt this illegitimate child, let the boy move into my home, and one day inherit everything I owned. They were counting their profits right in front of me.

While the trio mapped out my future without a flicker of shame, bile rose in my throat.

I pressed a palm to my temple and slumped against a pillar, letting my limbs go slack as though the strength had drained from me.

“Oh dear, my low blood sugar again,” I whispered. “The doctor also said those homemade fertility brews ruined my health, so donating a kidney would be dangerously risky.”

Their faces hardened the moment they realized I would not bend.

Margaret tore her hand from mine and launched into a shrill tirade, her voice slicing through the room. “I knew it—you never intended to save my boy. Your conscience must be dead.”

She dropped onto the linoleum with a theatrical thud. Jabbing a trembling finger in my direction, she shouted. “Look, everyone! Her husband is hovering between life and death, and this so-called wife does nothing!”

I watched her performance with a cold, detached eye, as though the corridor were her private stage and the pity of strangers her spotlight.

I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Mom, Colin is your son and, of course, you ache for him, but I ache for my child as well.”

My unyielding tone made her falter. Remembering how the onlookers at the ward had rebuked her earlier, she turned to Autumn for rescue.

Autumn, alarmed by the growing circle of onlookers, suddenly sank to her knees. Clutching my calf, she sobbed pitifully. “Vivian, please. Save Colin. He’s still so young,” she pleaded.