But when I woke up, Piers swore my memory was scrambled from the trauma.
And I believed him. I believed he would never lie to me about something like that.
Reality delivered the cruelest blow imaginable.
He hadn't just lied. He was the one who murdered my children.
Piers leaned down and pressed his lips to Julie's belly, his eyes shining with a tenderness I had never once seen directed at me.
"Once she signs the divorce papers, we'll be a real family of three."
Julie let out a derisive laugh. "That idiot signs whatever you put in front of her. Asset transfer agreements, the consent form to withdraw her mother's life support. All of it."
Something detonated inside my skull.
Five years ago, Julie had run my mother down and left her in a vegetative state.
I had poured every ounce of myself into caring for her, but two years later her organs failed and she was gone.
On all those sleepless nights when I lay awake drowning in guilt, convinced I hadn't done enough, it was Piers who held me close and told me it wasn't my fault.
Now they were telling me her death was their design too.
He tricked me into signing away my mother's life.