Chapter 7 - THE CHILD
I laughed because the alternative was screaming.
“That’s impossible.”
Naomi didn’t answer.
“Tell me it’s impossible.”
“It isn’t.”
I backed away.
“I’ve never donated eggs.”
“You may not have known.”
The room went silent.
Tobias looked sick.
Naomi explained carefully.
“If Garrett was drugging you regularly, he could have taken you to a clinic while you were heavily sedated. Or arranged procedures under false pretenses.”
“No.”
My hands started shaking.
“I would remember.”
“Would you?”
That hurt more than anything.
Because there were gaps.
Whole mornings I couldn’t account for.
Garrett would say I had been exhausted.
He would tell me I had slept late.
Once, I woke with bruising near my hip.
He told me I had fallen against the bathtub.
I sat down hard.
“Why?”
Tobias answered.
“The trust.”
I looked at him.
“If you die without children, your shares go partly to me and partly into a foundation.”
“But if I have a biological child…”
“Your child inherits your controlling interest.”
“And Garrett is the father.”
“Yes.”
I felt something inside me break.
Penelope wasn’t just carrying my husband’s baby.
She might be carrying mine.
Naomi touched my shoulder.
“We need proof.”
“I want to see her.”
“That’s a terrible idea,” Tobias said.
“I want to see Penelope.”
“She thinks you’re dead.”
“Exactly.”
The next morning, Garrett held a press conference.
We watched from the cabin television.
He cried beautifully.
“My wife was my whole world.”
I almost threw a glass at the screen.
Penelope stood behind him in dark clothes.
She looked pale.
Then a reporter asked about her pregnancy.
Garrett stiffened.
Penelope looked down.
Victor stepped in quickly.
“Ms. Mercer is grieving privately.”
Ms. Mercer.
Not Hale.
Interesting.
Then Garrett said something I hadn’t expected.
“We will continue Rosalind’s work at Mercer Shipworks in her memory.”
I leaned toward the screen.
“We?”
Tobias frowned.
Garrett continued.
“My family will work with the board to protect the company she loved.”
I stood.
“They’re moving already.”
Then Penelope lifted her eyes toward the camera.
For half a second, her expression changed.
Fear.
Not grief.
Fear.
She mouthed something.
Three words.
I replayed the footage.
Again.
And again.
May you like
Until I understood.
HE WILL KILL ME.
