"Ah!"

Linda's scream pierced the air.

Jessica's hand shot out, trying to catch her, but she only grazed Linda's sleeve, ripping off a button.

Anthony, rounding the corner at the sound, hurried over.

Linda was sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, and Jessica stood above, her hand still hanging in the air as if frozen in time.

Anthony shoved Jessica out of the way and bolted down to scoop up Linda.

"Linda, come on, open your eyes!"

Gripping Anthony's arm, Linda twisted her face in agony. "Anthony, don't be mad at Jess. She's just not Tracy's biggest fan. I tried to calm her down, and it set her off."

Her words trailed off as she slumped unconscious in his arms.

Anthony whipped around, his eyes burning holes into Jessica, who had been shoved to the ground.

"Jessica, you know I can't stand hypocrites."

He hoisted Linda in his arms, heading for the hospital. "You'd better hope Linda's okay, or forget about any old times."

As the car engine roared to life below, Jessica inspected her palm, gashed by the gravel.

Blood oozed out.

The orphanage director approached, hearing the commotion, and helped Jessica to her feet, words failing him.

Jessica pulled off her scarf and pressed it to her bleeding hand. "I've been volunteering here for years. I thought we were friends."

The lunch bell had the kids pouring out of the orphanage.

Watching Tracy skip and hop, the director mused, "Tracy's got a stroke of luck, bonding with Mr. Harris like they're family."

On her way home, Jessica finally dialed that number from her contacts, untouched for five long years.

It was answered after a single ring.

Simon Canfield's voice, smooth and alluring, drifted through the line. "Ms. Sullivan, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"

Ignoring the bite in his tone, Jessica cut to the chase. "Simon, does our engagement still stand?"

Simon's laughter crackled through the phone. "You must be kidding, Ms. Sullivan. You're a married woman now. If you're looking for a boy toy, you've dialed the wrong number."

Unruffled, Jessica asked again, "Just tell me, is our engagement still on?"

Simon's voice turned intimate, pressing against the receiver. "Ms. Sullivan, are you proposing an affair?"

At her limit, Jessica snapped, "Let's pretend this call never happened."

She ended the call and pulled over to the side of the road.

A message from Linda popped up on her phone.

[Jessica, how does it feel to play house for five years?]

[Guess what Anthony is up to now?]

A GIF popped up on the screen.

There was Anthony, dressed to the nines, crouched down tying Linda's shoelaces. The cufflinks at his wrists were the ones Jessica had chosen for him.

Her palm, which had healed, bled anew as she clenched her phone.

The ringtone pierced the silence. It was Simon again.

"Ms. Sullivan, ever the firecracker. If you'd been a bit more observant, you might've noticed the marriage certificate was a fake from the start."

Simon was uncannily resourceful; he had uncovered in minutes what had eluded her for years.

Jessica's fingers clenched around her phone. "Mr. Canfield, I didn't come here for your snide remarks. I just want to ask..."

Simon's voice was a low rumble, cutting her off, "It's a done deal, always."

Jessica was lost. "What does that mean?"

Simon's face took on a rare solemnity. "It means our engagement stands. Whenever you're ready, I'm here to be your husband, Jessica."

She was silent for a long moment before responding.

"I've got things to wrap up in Capital City. Let's meet next Monday outside the Hudson City County Clerk's Office."

Simon's voice lightened as he teased, "Whoever chickens out is a scaredy-cat."

"Immature," retorted Jessica before ending the call.

That evening, after dinner, as Jessica was about to retreat to her bedroom, a commotion arose at the door.

Linda entered, linked arm in arm with Anthony, a trail of servants lugging suitcases behind them.

Anthony instructed the servants to take the luggage to the guest room, then turned to Jessica.

"Linda is back in town and hasn't found a place yet, so I told her she could crash here for a bit."

Linda arched an eyebrow. "I won't be here long, Mrs. Harris. You don't mind, right?"

Jessica kept her cool, "Not at all, Ms. Brown. Make yourself at home."

She would be out of there in three days anyway.

Anthony looked at her, taken aback, "You're not upset?"

Jessica shook her head with a hint of resignation. "I'll be moving out soon anyway."

Anthony blinked in surprise. "What do you mean by that?"

"Just rambling," Jessica dismissed with a wave of her hand.

Anthony sensed that something was not quite right with her, but before he could probe further, Linda chimed in.

"Anthony, weren't you going to take Tracy to the amusement park?" she asked, her voice and demeanor taking charge as if she owned the place.

Anthony seemed spellbound. "Right, I'll go get Tracy now."

He glanced at Jessica, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out.

Jessica, ever the understanding one, encouraged them, "Go ahead, think of it as a warm welcome for Tracy's return."

Linda looped her arm through Anthony's again. "Exactly, like a perfect little family."

Jessica caught the triumphant glint in Linda's eye but responded with a courteous smile before turning to leave.

The evening passed, and darkness enveloped the sky.

As Jessica was drifting off to sleep, voices floated in from outside her door.

It was Linda, her voice dripping with sweetness. "Anthony, stay with me tonight, won't you?"

His reply was soft yet unwavering, "Linda, Jess is my wife, even if just in name. She's here. It wouldn't be right."

"I'm the one on the marriage certificate, the real wife. It makes sense for you to be with me," Linda insisted.

In the quiet of her room, Jessica's fingers tensed, and she consciously slowed her breathing to calm the storm inside.

Anthony let out a long sigh, his voice tinged with resignation. "You're Tracy's mom. Just know I'll always do right by you."

Linda's voice was a whisper, choked with tears. "Can you promise me you won't touch her while I'm staying here?"

Anthony gave a low, affirming hum.

Soon after, the sound of a bedroom door echoed from next door.

Jessica's eyes fluttered open, and a silent smile played across her lips.

Three people, three rooms, each with their own hidden agendas.

Come morning, Jessica descended the stairs to find Anthony and Linda already at the breakfast table.

"You looked so peaceful sleeping, I didn't want to wake you," said Linda, her tone dripping with insinuation. It was as if she owned the place and Jessica was just passing through.

Anthony said nothing to set the record straight.

Jessica ignored the jab and took a seat.

Linda got up and handed her a bowl of mushroom walnut soup. "Try it, I made it myself."

One look and Jessica saw the walnuts lurking at the bottom. She had been allergic her whole life; one bite could be deadly.

"Sorry, I can't eat walnuts," said Jessica, pushing the bowl away.

Linda's face crumpled, tears welling up as she turned to Anthony.

"Maybe I should just leave, hit the streets. It's better than being unwanted."

With that, she rose to pack.

Anthony was at her side in an instant, his voice a soothing whisper.

Anthony turned to Jessica with a stern voice, "Jess, come on, drink up. Linda's been slaving away since dawn to make this."

Jessica stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You know I'm allergic to walnuts. Are you really asking me to risk my life just to spare her feelings?"

Anthony's face was stormy as he ordered, "Jessica! As the head of this household, I'm telling you to drink that soup!"

Linda had already taken her bags downstairs, heading for the door.

In a panic, Anthony rushed to Jessica's side. He grabbed the bowl of soup and forced Jessica's mouth open, pouring it down.

"There's no way a bowl of soup can kill anyone," he muttered.

Jessica could not fight back as she was made to swallow the mushroom walnut soup.

Finally, Anthony backed off.

Jessica's knees buckled, and she slumped into a chair, coughing and sputtering, her face wet with tears and a runny nose.

Without a second look, Anthony went after Linda.

After soothing Linda, who was crying in his arms, Anthony passed by Jessica and remarked calmly, "Look at you, not a scratch. Always playing the damsel in distress."

Jessica's throat was so swollen that she could barely whisper, "Call 911... help me."

Anthony scowled, "You're about to be a mother. It's time to grow up. Apologize to Linda, now."

Jessica's mind was foggy, and she passed out, suffocating in silence.

Anthony never imagined that a simple bowl of mushroom walnut soup could have nearly cost Jessica her life.

Sitting in the back of the ambulance, he was ghostly pale and shaking uncontrollably.

"Jess, please don't scare me like this!"

After being whisked into the ER, it took a grueling five hours before Jessica was finally wheeled back out.

The doctor, pulling down his mask, let out a weary sigh. "If you'd been any later, not even the best doctor in the world could've brought her back."

"Didn't you know she had allergies?" he asked, looking at Anthony.

Anthony could not find the words. He had known about her allergy, yet he had pushed her to drink that deadly soup.

The weight of his guilt was crushing.

He did not leave her side, not until her eyes fluttered open again.

Her throat was still sore and swollen.

Holding her hand, Anthony asked, "Knowing how bad walnuts are for you, why didn't you stop me?"

What was she supposed to do, plead with him?

When she just looked at him, straight and unwavering, Anthony could not bear it and looked away, feeling guilty.

His phone rang, and after a moment's hesitation, he answered.

"Jess is okay, stop beating yourself up, no tears now."

He handed the phone to Jessica. "Linda is really torn up about it, she wants to apologize to you herself."

Jessica held the phone to her ear, bracing herself.

However, Linda's voice was harsh and mocking. "Jessica, I heard you nearly kicked the bucket. Anthony didn't blame me at all. Tell me, who do you think is more important to him?

"I knew about your allergy to walnuts, and I did it on purpose. Go ahead, call the cops. Ah, what a shame, you've got no proof."

Jessica's grip tightened on the blanket, and in a swift motion, she hurled the phone against the floor.

Anthony shot up from his chair.

"Jess! Linda is just trying to say she's sorry. Why can't you let this go?" he exclaimed.

With every ounce of strength, Jessica screamed, "Leave!"

Anthony's face turned stormy. "I've arranged for a nurse to take care of you. Use the next few days to cool off," he said.

He picked up the remnants of the phone and strode out of the hospital room.

That same day, Jessica signed herself out of the hospital.

She walked into the home she had lovingly crafted over five years, feeling the weight of betrayal.

Every detail of the villa, from the choice of location to the smallest decoration, had been her doing.

In the living room, the wedding portrait still hung, their smiles frozen in time. In a twist of fate, Linda had been pregnant during those captured moments of false joy.

In a fit of rage, Jessica grabbed a vase from the coffee table and hurled it at the photo.

The frame hit the ground with a resounding crash, dust billowing up.

The nanny rushed in at the sound. Jessica pointed at the wreckage. "We're going to need a new photo. Burn this one. Burn all the pictures of us in this house."