The woman, overwhelmed by labor pains, tried calling her husband. He answered while holding his mistress in one arm, his phone in the other, his tone cold and detached. “If it’s a girl, I’m not raising her. She’ll just clutter up the house… Go stay with your parents.” Then he ended the call. The next day, when he returned home, what he found shook him completely.

The next afternoon, Andrew returned to his house in Bellevue feeling irritated but confident, assuming Hannah had followed his instructions and left in shame. Instead, he found the gates wide open and a moving truck blocking the driveway while workers carried furniture out of the house, including the crib he had refused to assemble, her antique vanity, and even his office chair.

“What is going on here,” he shouted angrily as he approached them, “who told you that you could touch my things.”

A man in a tailored suit stepped out of the house holding a leather briefcase, and it was Mr. Hamilton, the attorney who had handled Hannah’s family matters for years. He looked calm and said, “Mr. Pierce, you arrived just in time.”

“In time for what, and where is Hannah and the baby,” Andrew demanded.

“Mrs. Pierce is safe, and her daughter is healthy, her name is Faith which seems very fitting,” the attorney replied.

Andrew forced a laugh and said, “I told her to go to her parents, I did not expect her to move out so quickly, but that is fine because I will change the locks.”

“That will not be necessary, because this property belongs to Mrs. Pierce,” Mr. Hamilton said evenly.