"My brave Prue."

The words hit me, and something inside me almost laughed.

Brave. Of course I was brave. I'd swallowed the agony of losing my child while listening to my own husband ignore his kidnapped wife, too busy losing his mind over another woman to spare me a single thought.

My gaze locked onto those eyes, the ones I'd fallen for a thousand times over, searching desperately for even a flicker of guilt in their depths.

There was nothing. He didn't even glance my way.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it.

Right. A man who didn't care about his wife or his children could hardly be expected to remember a phone call that had never been hung up.

I didn't know how much time passed before the sharp sting of disinfectant pulled me back.

I opened my eyes. Alexis's face filled my vision.

The moment she saw I was awake, her eyes lit up.

She set the apple and paring knife in her hand aside, dug into her bag, and tossed a stack of paper onto my bed.

"You're awake! Quick, tell me if this love letter turned out okay."

The sheets were a collage, pieced together from strips of paper covered in handwriting I knew by heart.

Beside the meticulously assembled creation sat a notebook, its pages ripped apart without a shred of care.

I recognized everything on that bed in an instant. My breath stopped.

Those were my love journals. Ten years of them.

The pieced-together letter began: To my beloved, Alexis.

She must have caught the color draining from my face, because Alexis tilted her chin up, her expression still perfectly innocent.

"Bertram told me yesterday he wanted to use these to buy one of my smiles."

Pain lanced behind my eyes. Every word out of her mouth was a blade, and it was suffocating.

So that was why he hadn't answered his phone. He'd been with Alexis.

He'd shredded everything I'd written without a second thought, just to piece together a love letter for her. Just to make her happy.

The taste of blood seeped between my teeth. My voice shook when I finally spoke. "Are you done with the act?"

Alexis blinked, then shrugged like it meant nothing. "He told me he'd always have my back. No matter what."

My eyes flickered.

She wasn't wrong. Bertram had always shielded her.

The first time, she'd "accidentally" fed me abortion pills disguised as vitamins. His punishment? Making her post a public apology on social media.

The second time, she'd faked a stomachache right as I was going into labor, delaying delivery until my baby suffocated. His punishment? Grounding her for three days to "reflect."

I'd sobbed to Bertram about how unfair it all was. He'd looked at me with flat, distant eyes and said:

"She already knows she was wrong. Be the bigger person."

And now, once again, it was because of her.

Before I could respond, Alexis leaned close to my ear, her lips curling into a smile.

"You know what, sis? Instead of wasting your energy being mad at me, maybe you should go check on that useless father of yours. Someone dug up your mother's grave, and the shock gave him a heart attack. He's still on the operating table."

My mind went blank. Her words echoed in my skull, over and over.

By the time I came back to myself, I was already standing outside the operating room.

"Why are you in such a rush? The doctor said that waste of space can't have children anymore. If it weren't for the fact that her womb could save Alexis, I never would've let her play Mrs. Delgado for ten years."

"Relax, Mom. No more babies? Then we take her heart instead. She owes Alexis that much."

I stared at the two familiar figures around the corner, and my heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it would crack.

So my babies hadn't died. Bertram had taken them under the guise of miscarriages and given their hearts to his precious other woman. The "culprit" he'd sworn to hunt down was himself all along.

His words after each "miscarriage" flooded back to me in a sickening rush.

"Half a dose of abortion pills and the kid couldn't hold on? Would've been too fragile anyway. Not fit to lead the Delgado family."

"So the baby didn't want to come out on time. If this one doesn't love our Prue, we'll just try again for one who wants to love Mommy with Daddy."

I sank to the cold floor, an icy chill crawling up my spine.

I'd thought Bertram was simply cold-natured, that beneath it all, he genuinely wanted to raise our children. The truth was, he'd only ever wanted to find Alexis a perfect heart.

The realization crashed over me, and I pressed my hands against my face, drowning in it. I'd been so stupid. So impossibly, pathetically stupid to think I could ever wring a drop of sincerity from Bertram Delgado.

My phone screen flashed. Then flashed again.

I lowered my gaze to the message, and something dark and sharp moved behind my eyes.

One week. In one week, every single person who had laid a hand on my children would pay.

Bertram's secretary came sprinting toward him, face drained of color.

"Mr. Delgado, Miss Pruitt has been kidnapped!"

In an instant, all the blood left Bertram's face.

Before I could even react, he was already tearing past me. I looked up and caught a flash of his dark eyes, wild with panic.

But his gaze barely grazed me before he bolted past, heading for the stairwell behind me.

In that split second as our paths crossed, his shoulder slammed into me and sent me crashing to the floor.

The bodyguard trailing him stepped on the back of my hand without breaking stride.

I winced against the sharp bite of pain and watched Bertram's retreating figure, stumbling in his desperation, growing smaller down the hallway. Something inside my chest seized and went still.

I'd already heard the panic in his voice over the phone. I'd known. But seeing it with my own eyes still sent a blade twisting through my heart.

After a moment, I tugged weakly at the corners of my mouth.

Of course. Bertram had always been this way.

The second anything involved Alexis, nothing else in the world existed for him.

On the hospital rooftop, a man with a savage, contorted face held Alexis hostage. A knife gleamed at her throat, the blade pressed flat against her skin.

Alexis was sobbing uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face.

As more people crowded onto the rooftop, the man retreated toward the edge, his agitation spiraling into something feral and unhinged.

His bloodshot eyes locked onto Bertram.

"Bertram Delgado! All I wanted was one heart to keep me alive. But you'd rather give this bitch heart after heart after heart than spare me a single one. Fine. Then don't blame me for taking it with my own hands!"

Bertram's burning gaze fixed on the thin line of blood trickling down Alexis's neck. His face was a mask of composure, but his hands trembled at his sides.

He drew a slow breath. "A heart from someone with cardiac disease. How long do you think that would keep you alive?"

I stood in the corner of the crowd, watching the scene unfold.

Then, in the next instant, a pair of familiar eyes found mine through the press of bodies.

Before I could process what was happening, Bertram had pulled me into his arms.

"Only a heart from someone healthy would be worth anything to you."

His voice rang out, clear and deliberate, right beside my ear. My body went rigid. I lifted my gaze to his cold, hard face, and every drop of blood in my veins turned to ice.

He knew. He knew the kidnapper wanted a heart to save his own life, and he'd shoved me forward anyway, painting a target on my back.

All of it, every last bit, just to save Alexis.

The betrayal crashed over me like a wave, so massive it nearly dragged me under.

The kidnapper's frenzy only intensified. "You think finding a compatible heart is that easy?! You're trying to trick me into swapping hostages so you can save this bitch. Dream on!"

Bertram's expression didn't waver. "Her heart won't keep you alive for long. But if you take her instead..." His gaze dropped to me for a fraction of a second. "You'd have leverage over the person I love. I can find you a compatible heart."

The kidnapper hesitated, suspicion flickering across his face as his eyes settled on me.

And Bertram, catching the shock in my eyes, looked away with something almost like guilt. His voice dropped to a murmur only the two of us could hear. "Prue, you've trained in self-defense. I know you can hold out until the police arrive."

I stared at him, eyes wide.

I'd already braced myself to be used as a shield. But I never imagined he'd say it to my face with such shameless audacity.

Before I could fire back a single word, the kidnapper barked his command. "Fine! Bring her over. We trade, one for one!"

Bertram pushed me forward. There wasn't a flicker of hesitation in those deep, dark eyes.

I took it all in, and a bitter laugh echoed somewhere inside me.

A sacrificial pawn who could be discarded at any moment in this game had no right to hope for even a scrap of genuine feeling.

Just as the exchange was about to happen, the kidnapper threw his head back and let out a jagged laugh.

"You'd throw away your own wife to save this bitch, and you call her the one you love? What a joke! Today, I'm killing HER!"

Before the last word left his mouth, he kicked Bertram aside and raised the knife high.

Laughing like a man possessed, he lunged for Alexis's chest.

"Alexis—!"

Bertram's pupils contracted to pinpoints. He shoved me away with all his strength and threw himself over Alexis.

And I lost my balance completely, pitching backward off the edge of the rooftop.

The wind screamed louder and louder in my ears. Above me, the man with terror blazing in his eyes for the woman he loved grew smaller and smaller, shrinking into nothing.

A single tear slipped from the corner of my eye.

Even now, all he cared about was whether my heart was still usable.

I didn't know how much time passed before I woke to the sharp sting of antiseptic.

Bertram stood by the window. I blinked, momentarily stunned.

"You're up. How do you feel?"

He crossed the room when he saw my eyes open, pressing the back of his hand gently to my forehead.

My heart leapt into my throat.

The warmth of his touch was so real it made everything inside me twist tighter.

"If you're feeling alright, get up and pick a dress. I need you at an event with me."

His voice landed somewhere deep in my chest and sent a tremor through me.

A row of dresses in different styles already hung along one side of the room.

I pressed my lips together, suddenly greedy for this moment. For the illusion of it.

Everything felt the way it used to. He was still him, the man who bent the world to his will and no one else's.

But when his car pulled up in front of a prenatal school, I froze.

Wasn't he taking me to an event?

Bertram said nothing. He strode inside without a word.

The receptionist at the front desk hurried over, practically bowing.

"Mr. Delgado, everything you requested has been arranged. Your wife is inside, in class."

Wife? Class?

I looked at Bertram, frowning.

He didn't offer a single word of explanation. Not until I saw her through the glass partition: Alexis Pruitt, sitting attentively in a parenting class.

The air left my lungs.

Three pregnancies. Three times I had asked him to come to parenting classes with me.

And every time, the same answer: "Prue, I just took over the company. All my energy needs to go into the projects."

To make things easier for him, I had swapped out the parenting classes for massage techniques and cooking courses instead. Every day I stayed home like a good wife, waiting for him to walk through the door so I could cook for him, knead the tension from his shoulders.

Ten years. Ten years I kept that up.

I couldn't stop myself from looking at him, and the dull ache in my chest deepened into something unbearable.

Bertram's gaze was locked on Alexis. The faint smile curving his lips, the tenderness spilling from his eyes, was so thick it was almost obscene.

I suddenly felt ridiculous. Pathetic, even, for daring to hope he might come back to me.

"Hey, doesn't that dress she's wearing look familiar?"

Two receptionists whispered behind me.

"I knew something was off about her the second she walked in. Now it makes sense."

"That's hilarious. Trying to copy Mrs. Delgado's style to seduce Mr. Delgado, and he won't even look at her."

"See the snagged thread on the hem? Last time Mr. Delgado brought his wife to parenting class, Mrs. Delgado was wearing that exact dress and caught the fabric on something. Mr. Delgado didn't even blink, just bought her a dozen limited-edition dresses on the spot."

Their voices weren't loud, but they were loud enough.

I turned to look at the man beside me. His sharp, cold profile hit me like a slap I couldn't hear.

The taste of blood lingered between my teeth. My fingers clenched the fabric of my skirt until my knuckles went white.

So that was it. To Bertram, I was only fit to wear Alexis Pruitt's hand-me-downs.

"Bertram!"

The next second, Alexis burst out from behind the glass partition, beaming as she ran toward us.

She slammed into my shoulder as she passed, then threw herself into Bertram's arms.

The impact sent me stumbling sideways. My lower back cracked against the corner of the wall, and cold sweat broke across my skin.

Bertram's voice drifted over, impossibly gentle. "You're pregnant. Don't run around like that."

"I just missed you so much." Alexis pouted, clinging to him. Then her eyes widened with theatrical surprise. "Oh? Prudence, you're here too!"

I glanced at that guileless, butter-wouldn't-melt expression of hers and felt my stomach turn.

"I certainly am. And imagine my surprise, finding out the Delgado family's foster sister gets to be called 'Mrs. Delgado' around here."

The color drained from Alexis's face.

"Wait, what does she mean? Alexis is the fake wife?"

"Sounds pretty convincing to me. But if that's true, why does Mr. Delgado always come here with her?"

I looked at the happy couple, my gaze dripping with contempt.

But beneath it, my heart was still waiting. Still stupidly hoping for Bertram's choice.

After a long silence, he reached out and pulled the woman beside him into his arms. The pressure radiating off him crashed over me like a wave.

"Prudence, do you really have to drag Alexis down just to feed your pathetic little need for attention?"

Of course.

I watched them and let out a bitter laugh.

"Fine. I'll keep my distance."

I turned to leave, but in that same instant, my feet stopped.

Not far away, a mascot costume stood propped up, perfectly still.

Ten years ago, on my birthday, I had worked until well past midnight. When I finally stepped outside, there was a ring-toss booth set up in front of the building. The vendor was someone in a big brown bear suit.

I tossed ten rings. Missed every single one.

Then the bear pulled off its head.

Bertram's hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. His usually stern face was flushed pink from the heat.

Under the moonlight, those eyes, brimming with love and bright as stars, made my heart skip a beat.

I would never forget the way he caught his breath, teasing me with a voice that was careful and tender all at once: "How about you just take me home instead?"

I found out later that he had stood in that sweltering costume under the blazing sun for five hours, all to surprise me on my birthday.

The memory hit me, and the heart I thought had gone numb stirred again, aching with something I couldn't name.

Then a hand seized my arm and yanked me back.