Sarah slept longer than she had in years. In her dreams, she was a little girl again, safe in her grandmother’s small, cluttered house. Life back then moved more slowly. The air smelled like simmering soup, and rain gently tapped the tin roof.

But even in dreams, the shadows found her.

She remembered how people used to stare with pity, whispering behind their hands. That was how she learned the truth—her parents had abandoned her, and she had become a burden her grandmother carried alone.

She cried for days. Children don’t know how to hide heartbreak.

It wasn’t until her grandmother placed a knotted charm bracelet around her wrist and promised it would keep her safe that she finally stopped.

“Sarah, my dear,” her grandmother had said softly, “your mom and dad didn’t leave you. They just can’t come back right now. One day, when you're older, you’ll understand.”

But Sarah never got the chance to grow up with her. Illness took her grandmother too soon.

Her dream then shifted.

Now Sarah was in the Stevens' house—cold, spotless, and perpetually too quiet. In that place, she had always felt like an outsider.

It didn’t matter how high her grades were or how careful she was not to step out of line. The smiles of her adoptive parents always disappeared the moment she walked into the room.

And outside the house was even crueler. Her classmates didn’t bother pretending. They cut her clothes, tore her notebooks, and made her backpack vanish just before the bell rang.

One moment stood out more than the rest.

Her backpack had been strung up in a tree. She stood beneath it, pacing and panicked, jumping and failing to reach it. Her hands were scraped and stinging, and tears clung to her lashes, just waiting to fall.

Then a breeze carried the smell of wild grass and warm earth.

She looked up, and he was there.

A tall boy in a school uniform, his collar undone just enough to look effortlessly cool. In his hand was her backpack. In his eyes, there was a calm, unbothered kind of kindness.

Under the bright summer sun, he smiled.

“Hey,” he said. “Nice to meet you. I’m Harvey.”

When Sarah opened her eyes in the hospital, she stared up at the ceiling, dazed.

Back then, she never would have believed that the boy smiling in the sunlight would grow into the man who caused her so much pain.

Suddenly, a gentle beep interrupted her dream. Someone had pressed the call button next to her bed.

For a brief second, something flickered in her chest.

Maybe it was Harvey. Maybe, despite everything, he had come.

Maybe he still cared.

She turned her head.

It wasn’t him.

It was Joseph, the vineyard manager.

Joseph saw the flicker of disappointment in her eyes and scoffed. “Don’t get your hopes up. Sir Harvey is with Miss Zoey. If you’re tired of living like this, maybe stop acting like a victim and apologize. To both of them.”

Sarah let out a bitter laugh and thought inwardly, 'Apologize? Apologize for loving Harvey? For refusing to let Zoey cheat her way through life?'

But she didn’t say a word. Her silence said enough.

Joseph rolled his eyes, yanked open the door, and walked out.

...

A few minutes later, Zoey walked in.

Her belly had just begun to show, a small curve that hit Sarah like a punch to the chest.

Zoey folded her arms across it, her posture casual but her expression smug.

Her voice came out sweet, but every word landed like a slap. "Sarah, I told you not to cross me. Now that you know Harvey only got close to you because of me, how does that feel? Like your whole little world just collapsed?"

She paused, overseeing Sarah, savoring the moment before she added with mock sweetness,

"Oh, and by the way, your grandma’s grave? It's the perfect location. I joked to Harvey about needing a peaceful resting place for Luna, and he just handed it over."

Sarah’s breath caught in her throat. She knew exactly who Luna was.

Zoey’s hamster.

Her heart stopped.

Harvey had given up her grandmother’s grave for a hamster?

The disbelief barely had time to settle before memories slammed into her like a freight train.

She remembered taking Harvey to that hillside when things were still good. She had run ahead, cheeks flushed with excitement, pulling him by the hand. She had looked at him like he was her future.

“Grandma,” she had said, grinning from ear to ear, “this is Harvey. He treats me so well. You don’t have to worry anymore. We’ll come visit all the time.”

But after the so-called debts took over that day, she was never allowed to return.

Harvey had known. He had known exactly what that place meant to her.

And he had still done this.

Something inside her cracked wide open.

She didn’t care that she’d just fainted. She didn’t care about the IV needle in her arm, the hospital gown clinging to her, or the pounding pain behind her eyes.

With strength she didn’t know she had, Sarah shoved Zoey aside and bolted from the room.

The rain had been relentless all week.

When Sarah reached the old part of the town, her shoes were soaked and her clothes clung to her from the drizzle. The roads here were rough and uneven, winding through crumbling alleyways and forgotten lots.

Her grandmother’s grave was supposed to be nestled peacefully in a cemetery. Instead, she found the tombstone discarded in a patch of weeds, mud-stained, cracked, and tossed aside like trash.

Sarah’s breath caught in her throat.

She stood frozen for a moment, then dropped to her knees and gently wiped the dirt from the stone, her hands trembling.

“Grandma…” Her voice cracked. “It was my fault. I misjudged him.”

Her chest tightened as the memories came rushing back. The first time she brought Harvey here, she’d been so nervous, so proud. She wanted him to understand how much her grandmother meant to her.

Back then, had he already been laughing at her behind her back? Mocking her for being naïve?

Maybe the devil does appear when spoken of.

A strong hand suddenly yanked her by the wrist.

Sarah gasped, jerking her head up, and there he was.

Harvey.

He looked like he’d rushed over, breath heavy, hair slightly disheveled.

For a moment, she foolishly thought he was worried about her.

But then, a voice crackled from his phone, still on speaker. "Sir Harvey, Miss Zoey isn’t doing well. She said Sarah pushed her. Have you found Sarah yet? Miss Zoey has been crying nonstop."

Joseph’s voice.

And just like that, the illusion shattered.

Harvey’s grip on her wrist tightened, and she felt like her bones might snap.

He muttered a few clipped responses, then hung up.

When he turned back to Sarah, his eyes were hard as stone.

"Zoey said you pushed her. The baby’s position is unstable now. Sarah, have you been getting too comfortable lately? If you’re looking to die, then go do it somewhere far from me."

His venomous words hit her like a slap.

There had been a time when Harvey was worried if she’d eaten, if she remembered to wear a coat, or if she was lonely or cold. Now, he didn’t even ask if she was okay. He just took someone else’s word and threw it at her like a weapon.

Sarah let out a bitter laugh, the sound low and broken. "Fine. As long as you're willing to show some mercy and return my grandmother’s ashes, I’ll disappear. I’ll stay far, far away from you."

She meant it.

She didn’t know what kind of madness he was caught up in, but she was done.

Instead of letting go, Harvey gripped her tightly. His fingers dug into her skin.

"If anything happens to Zoey," he said, voice low and dangerous, "I’ll send you straight to the afterlife to join your grandmother."

Before Sarah could react, he dragged her roughly down the hill and shoved her into a car waiting by the curb.

The pain came almost immediately. Her stomach clenched, waves of nausea crashing over her.

Sarah curled up in the corner of the backseat, clutching her abdomen, trying to breathe through the sharp, twisting cramps.

Harvey sat beside her, scrolling through his phone like nothing had happened.

Eventually, out of his eye, he noticed her trembling.

He scoffed, "Scared now? Trying to fake being sick so I’ll feel sorry for you? Zoey told me you’ve always been jealous of her. Adopted daughter playing victim. How many tricks do you have?"

Sarah opened her mouth, wanting to speak, wanting to defend herself.

But the look in his eyes stopped her cold.

All warmth was gone. There was nothing left of the man she had once loved.

The Harvey who used to hold her, support her, and make her feel safe had disappeared.

In his place was someone cold, someone who had spent years leading her into a cruel trap to help Zoey break her down piece by piece.

Sarah turned her face toward the window, the city lights blurring behind the rain-streaked glass.

Exhausted, Sarah thought, 'I just need to find a way out.'

She didn’t know where she’d go or how she’d survive, but when this was over, she never wanted anything to do with Harvey.

She vowed never to come back.

Just then, the car rolled to a stop in front of the hospital, and the driver called out that they had arrived.

Only then did Harvey look up from his phone.

Sarah hadn’t moved. She was still curled up in the corner of the backseat, her body rigid, drenched in sweat. Her shirt clung to her, and her lips had turned pale.

Something about her stillness made Harvey hesitate.

He turned to look at her more closely.

Slowly, almost uncertainly, he brushed her hair away from her face.

She didn’t flinch.

There was no color left in her cheeks. Her breathing was shallow. Her skin felt like ice.

Harvey’s stomach dropped.

"Sarah," he said, shaking her shoulder. "Sarah, wake up."

No response.

"Sarah—"

The driver turned, eyes wide. "Mr. Jameson, she’s bleeding a lot!"

Harvey froze.

His gaze dropped to her lap. His heart slammed against his ribs.

A dark red stain was spreading fast.

When Sarah awoke, the sterile white ceiling above her appeared unnaturally still and quiet. For a moment, she gazed silently and without expression.

She sensed something wasn’t quite right with her body even through the fog of exhaustion.

Her cycle had always been irregular.

Long hours of picking grapes, skipped meals, and stress had all taken their toll. So, when she missed it this time, the thought of pregnancy didn’t even cross her mind.

But then came the blood.

The cramps.

The gut-wrenching pain in the car.

Suddenly, it all made sense.

She had been carrying Harvey’s child.

Tentatively, Sarah lifted a trembling hand and placed it over her stomach. Her palm was cold against the thin hospital gown.

Just then, the door swung open. Harvey walked in, holding a stack of test results.

Their eyes met.

Sarah instinctively flinched and shrank back into the sheets. But then, remembering the baby, she found a trace of courage and pushed herself up slightly.

“If you and Zoey don’t want me around… I’ll leave,” she said softly, barely above a whisper. “But… can I keep the baby?”

The words slipped out quietly, cautiously, almost like a plea.

She had once been vibrant, full of energy and light. Now she lay there in that hospital bed, pale and fragile, like something time had worn down.

Her grandmother spoiled her once. Harvey had too.

But those days were over. That kind of love was long gone.

And maybe, she realized, it had never been real at all.

She wasn’t asking for Harvey’s love, forgiveness, or even kindness anymore. All she wanted now was the right to keep her child.

Harvey’s expression darkened. He threw the stack of test results onto the side table with a sharp snap, his anger rising like a storm about to break.

“You’re not keeping it,” Harvey said coldly. “The procedure’s scheduled for tomorrow.”

Sarah froze. Her lips parted, trying to form a response, but it took a long, painful moment before any sound came out.

“What… did you say?” she asked, her voice cracking. “This is your child, too.”

Tears streamed down her face before she could react. They had become increasingly familiar since she learned that the love she had clung to was one-sided.

The man who used to protect her, who once feared she might get hurt, was now the one causing her the most pain.

“What do I owe you, Harvey?” Sarah asked in anguish. “If I’d known you’d treat me like this, I would’ve rather never met you!”

Harvey’s eyes narrowed sharply.

Without warning, his hand shot forward and clamped around her throat.

“You think you’re worthy of carrying this child?” he spat.

A cruel smirk twisted his lips. “You want this kid to grow up knowing his mother’s a thief? A plagiarist?”

Sarah’s entire body went numb.

His grip didn’t loosen. The hatred in his eyes was real, burning, and relentless.

And it was all because of Zoey.

Zoey had claimed it was about stolen designs, that Sarah had been her ghostwriter, and that she had always lived in Zoey’s shadow as the quiet, invisible sister.

But even if Sarah had proof, Harvey wouldn’t have believed her. He hadn’t loved her. He had only gotten close to her to protect Zoey. To punish Sarah for something she never did.

And then, like a door suddenly flung open in her memory, it all came rushing back.

The day Harvey truly snapped—the same day Zoey got married.

That night, the man who was always cold but controlled had become something else. Vicious. Ruthless. He broke her down word by word, touch by touch, until she collapsed from the weight of it all.

She remembered his words that night, slurred and spoken through clenched teeth.

“If you hadn’t ruined Zoey, she wouldn’t have had to marry someone she doesn’t love.”

At the time, Sarah had pushed it from her mind, forgotten about it entirely. But now, as she stood there, everything came rushing back.

She also recalled how things only deteriorated after the news broke that Zoey was pregnant.

Harvey’s cruelty became relentless each day.

Even when she begged him to stop, telling him she had work the next day, he remained indifferent.

Back then, Sarah convinced herself it was just the passion of their lovemaking,

But now, as she thought back to the steep hillside trail, how her legs had given out, how she nearly slipped, and how the overseers had cursed and spat on her, she understood.

Harvey had wanted to push her to the edge.

And now, standing before her with that same face, that same voice, he spoke about taking her child as if it meant nothing.

Because, to Harvey, it never had.