Chapter 3

3.

The door burst open.

Uniforms flooded in. No Marcus.

Of course. He was with Hannah. Holding her hand. Stroking her fragile, trembling fingers.

My heart clenched. Then nausea rose.

Every ounce of pain he gave me. Every drop. I would make him taste it all.

A small figure shoved through the cops.

"Olivia!"

Jessica. Jessica Lynch. My best friend. My only friend. She'd called the police.

"Olivia, what happened? Oh God. Paramedics. Someone get paramedics. She's dying. Please. Help her."

Her frantic voice followed me into the ambulance.

I woke up in a hospital bed.

Everything hurt. Lashes across my back burned. I ignored them. My hand went to my stomach.

Jessica stirred beside me.

"You're awake."

She saw my hand. Her face crumpled.

"Olivia. You need to rest. Don't be too sad, okay? The baby must have really wanted to be an angel. God just called her back early."

I closed my eyes. Tears slid into the pillow.

I couldn't keep you either.

Jessica squeezed my hand.

"Thank you, Jess."

"Don't be stupid." She wiped her eyes. "Let me get the doctor."

She walked out.

A familiar voice stopped at the door.

"Olivia. Really committing to the performance, aren't you."

Marcus.

Jessica spun around.

"Marcus, you bastard. What the hell are you talking about?"

He smirked.

"Still playing victim? You took it all the way to the hospital. You know you're wasting emergency resources, right?"

I didn't get a chance to answer. Jessica exploded.

"Are you insane? Your wife was kidnapped. You're the sheriff. You didn't lift a finger. You took your entire office to rescue some bitch pretending to die. Now your wife just had a miscarriage and you have the audacity to blame her?"

A figure in a hospital gown stepped out from behind Marcus.

"Miscarriage? Really, Olivia? I'm so sorry. It's all my fault."