Instead of confronting them, Isabella planned. She contacted Dr. Cole, an old friend of her father’s, and showed him the pills. They were anticoagulants mixed with abortive herbs—designed to cause a fatal hemorrhage during labor.
“We’ll let them think it’s working,” Isabella said. “They need to feel safe.”
She stopped taking the pills, replaced them with harmless substitutes, and pretended to weaken. Fainting spells. Dark circles. Fear.
And then came the secret.
During her final ultrasound, Dr. Cole leaned closer to the screen. “There are two heartbeats,” he said quietly. “A boy and a girl.”
Isabella smiled. Nathaniel only knew about one.
Labor came early—triggered by a violent argument Nathaniel started on purpose. He delayed taking her to the hospital, finished his drink, called his mother, called Claire.
“At the hospital,” Dr. Cole was ready.
The flatline wasn’t death. Isabella was placed under a powerful induced sedative that slowed her heart to near undetectable levels—dangerous, but controlled.
Back in the present, chaos froze.
“Twins?” Nathaniel muttered.
“Both alive,” Dr. Cole said. “In the NICU.”
Claire tugged Nathaniel’s arm. “She’s gone. Everything’s yours.”