It never once crossed my mind that the space I longed to fill in his heart had long belonged to Verona.
When I stayed silent too long, Jericho lost his patience.
He clapped his hands once, and suddenly, the hospital room window burst open.
Following his gaze, I froze—my unconscious mom was hanging outside the window, suspended in midair! This was the seventh fucking floor!
“Jericho!” My voice rose to a shrill pitch. “Let my mom go!”
He tilted his head slightly, leaning closer.
“Venice,” he said softly, “your mom’s life is in your hands right now.”
A violent shiver ran through me. My knees went weak. I could barely stay standing.
Just then, Verona appeared at the doorway.
She walked in with a delicate smile, brazenly linking her arm through Jericho’s.
“It’s all my fault, Jericho,” she murmured. “Please don’t be so harsh with Venice. I’ll take responsibility. I can go to prison if that’s what she wants. Venice, I’m sorry, really.”
Her tone was pitiful, her eyes shimmering with tears. But as she stepped closer, her hand shot forward—pressing hard against my belly.
My eyes widened. Instinctively, I shoved her away.