Slowly, Emily removed her robe. She lowered the strap of her nightwear.
When Nathan saw his wife’s body, HE TURNED COLD. He froze.
Smooth. Unblemished. No stretch marks on her stomach. No sign that she had given birth even once—let alone three times. Emily’s body looked like that of a young woman who had never been pregnant.
“E-Emily?” Nathan asked in shock. “I thought… I thought you had three children?”
Emily lowered her head, trembling. She took a bag beside the bed and pulled out an old photo album and a death certificate…
Emily ran her fingers along the edge of the old photo album, as if summoning the courage she had buried for years. Her hands shook so violently that Nathan instinctively reached out, but she flinched, pulling away—not in fear of him, but of the memories clawing their way back to the surface.
“I never lied to you,” Emily whispered, her voice barely audible. “I just… never had the strength to tell the truth.”
Nathan swallowed hard. His heart pounded, not with anger, but with a growing sense of dread.
“Then tell me now,” he said gently. “Whatever it is… I’m here.”
Emily opened the album.