Alan's childhood friend, Sierra, was staying with us when she came down with a bad chill and developed a high fever after being locked out in the cold, having forgotten her keys.

His anger turned on me, and he forced me into the basement, still wearing just my underwear.

"You know Sierra's delicate and can't handle the cold. Why didn't you come home earlier to let her in?"

I tried repeatedly to explain that I was at the hospital and didn't hear my phone, but he refused to listen.

He even doubled up the locks on the basement door.

"You can't stand her being well, so now you can feel what it's like to freeze!"

Panicking, I banged desperately on the door, begging him to let me out. "Alan, I just got my pregnancy results today! I'm carrying our child!"

He thought I was lying, showed no mercy, and walked away.

He forgot the basement had been turned into a cold wine cellar with low-temperature settings.

I clawed until all my nails broke, yet there was no rescue.

A week later, when he finally remembered me, I was frozen stiff, along with the baby in my womb.

...

"Dr. Jenkins, Ms. Rice has recovered from her fever and can be discharged. You know the hospital is short on beds..."

The nurse glanced between them, hesitating to speak further.

Sierra's body temperature had stabilized overnight, but Alan insisted she stay for three more days.

"Check her thoroughly again; she's been delicate since childhood. I don't want her to develop any complications."

The nurse walked away annoyed, muttering under her breath.

"He's a doctor himself; can't he see it's just a common cold?"

Sierra slightly leaned forward, and Alan quickly supported her.

"Alan, I should be discharged. I don't want people gossiping about us, but..."

She lowered her head, her eyes reddening. "I don't have anywhere to go. Elowyn doesn’t welcome me."

Mentioning me made Alan’s face harden, his jaw clenching.

"My home is your home. Why care about her opinion? If she hadn’t come back late, how could you have caught a chill?"

Sierra shed a few tears, and Alan immediately reached out to gently wipe them away.

"I don't want you two arguing because of me. I'm always an unwelcome presence; people don't like me wherever I go."

Since she knocked on our door after her divorce, I've heard this too often.

With a deeper pang of compassion, Alan hugged her, gently patting her back.

"Don't worry. You don't need to go anywhere. Stay with me, and once Elowyn realizes her mistake, I’ll make sure she gives you a proper apology."

Sierra bit her lip lightly. "Can she really apologize to me? She seemed quite defiant yesterday."

"Ha, once she's frozen for a couple of days, she’ll have to give in."

In his eyes, there was not the slightest hint of regret.

"Didn't she say she was pregnant?"

"You heard her nonsense! We’ve been married for years without a pregnancy, and coincidentally, she claims she's pregnant when I'm disciplining her?"

He was impatient. "Enough about her. I know her temperament well enough—once this is over, she’ll fall into line."

As if reassuring himself. "I converted the basement into a wine cellar; it has cooling features."

Normally, the temperature should be between 46°F and 64°F.

But he didn't realize that after years of neglect, the system had failed, keeping the basement constantly between 14°F and -4°F.

By the second day he locked me inside, I succumbed to hypothermia and froze to death.

Until my last breath, I held my unborn child protectively.

In my nearby purse was the hospital's ultrasound scan.

12 weeks pregnant, the fetal heartbeat already present.

I got up from the cold floor, feeling no warmth or pain. I was momentarily disoriented. It wasn't until I saw my own body curled up there that I knew I was dead.

Scenes from the previous day still played vividly in my mind. I'd gotten home late from the hospital, to find Sierra Rice, who was temporarily staying at my place, shivering downstairs for two hours. I hurried to get medicine and made her some hot apple cider, but she coldly knocked it over.

"I don't want your fake kindness. You probably can't wait for me to leave."

I tried explaining that I hadn't heard her call while I was at the hospital, but she just sneered and pushed me.

"How do I know you didn't do it on purpose?"

By the time Alan Jenkins got back, she was sprawled on the couch, burning up with a fever, looking miserable.

"Alan... I feel so awful..."

She whimpered, her body limp as she leaned into his arms. She looked at me with fear and avoidance in her eyes. "Maybe you should just drop me off at a nearby inn and let me fend for myself."

"Sweetheart..." I rushed forward to explain, eager and hopeful to share the news with him.

But Alan suddenly stood up, kicking me hard in the chest. I fell to the ground, shocked and trembling, as he vented his anger on me, ripping at my clothes.

"Sweetheart, listen..."

"What's there to say? How can you be so cruel?"

"Do you have any idea how cold it was today? Sierra is delicate, and this is how you treat her?"

My clothes were torn to shreds, leaving me in just thin underwear. He grabbed my hair and dragged me out forcefully. "You can't stand to see her well, so now you’ll know what it feels like to freeze."

He ignored the blood from my scraped body as he dragged me across the floor. My screams were only met with his furious slaps. "You dare to scream?"

He dragged me all the way to the basement, where I clung desperately to the door frame, pleading with him. "Sweetheart, I'm pregnant. We have a baby..."

I was overwhelmed, my grievances stuck in my throat like a stone. Sierra followed closely behind, coughing violently once more.

"Alan, let's just forget it. This will only make Elowyn hate me more," she said weakly.

Alan's brief moment of softness vanished instantly as his face darkened. He pried my fingers loose and kicked me down the steps. Sierra still held onto my handbag, probably thinking Alan was about to kick me out. She threw the bag inside, "Elowyn, I don't blame you. Even if you deliberately spilled hot cider on me, I wouldn't resent you."

Alan slammed the door shut, locked it, and even wrapped it with chains.

"Sweetheart! Alan, you can't do this to me! I'm pregnant, let me out!" I screamed desperately, but only his cold laughter responded.

"Still lying? Elowyn, I never knew you could be like this."

"Think about it in there. When you realize your mistake, then call me your husband."

The sound of footsteps faded away, and he never noticed the unusual chill in the basement, where a thin layer of frost had begun to creep up the walls. My body shook with cold as I screamed desperately, clawing at the door, desperately trying to break the only window. But it was all pointless.

We had turned this basement into a wine cellar when we were newlyweds, back when I was still a sommelier. Alan would bring me a bottle of wine after each conference as a token of our love. In order to preserve these memories, he enthusiastically transformed this space into a wine cellar. But it had been ages since he last came here and didn't realize the equipment had malfunctioned.

My fingernails were torn, and bloody smears marked the door and walls. But there was no sign of anyone coming to my aid. I couldn't protect my baby, only rubbing my cold hands together helplessly before shielding my belly. Slowly, my consciousness started to fade, my movements growing sluggish until I could no longer move a finger.

I died.

As my soul slipped away, even my tears were invisible. I cast one final look at my twisted body in the corner before leaving the basement behind. All I wanted to know was, where was Alan?

Then I saw him in a hospital room. He was asleep, his hand tightly intertwined with Sierra’s as he leaned over the bed. Over the next few days, he cared for Sierra tirelessly, who had long since recovered from her fever.

When the nurse suggested Sierra's discharge, Bennett Lynch, a mutual friend, stopped by the room. Alan was busy feeding Sierra oatmeal, unaware of Bennett's concerned expression.

"Alan, did Elowyn tell you?" Bennett asked.

"What?" Alan said.

After that day’s check-up, I had asked Bennett to keep my pregnancy a secret, wanting to surprise Alan later. Seeing Alan’s puzzled look, Bennett probably guessed I hadn’t told him yet, so he brushed it aside. "Nothing. Let Elowyn tell you herself."

Bennett turned away but couldn't resist advising him, "You're on leave, right? You should spend some time with Elowyn."

Alan didn’t even look up. "I took leave to take care of her. Elowyn’s fine. She's eating and sleeping well."

Bennett shook his head and left.

I lingered beside Alan, watching his careful attention as he fed Sierra. The hands I once adored now bore burns, likely from preparing the oatmeal. Bitterness surged within me; Alan, who never set foot in the kitchen, could cook for someone else.

Sierra glanced at him. "Alan, have you ever cooked for Elowyn?"

Alan froze. "No."

Sierra’s face lit up with delight before she took another spoonful. "I'm worried I'd make something she wouldn’t like. She’s very particular; the wrong food makes her stomach recoil, and it’s quite uncomfortable."

Sierra started coughing, her expression suddenly icy.

After tidying up, Alan checked his phone for the time, looking tense and lost in thought.

The doctor who examined me walked by, greeting Alan with a smile. "Congrats, Dr. Jenkins!"

"For what?" Alan asked.

"Well, for becoming a father soon. Elowyn hasn’t mentioned it?"

The lunch container slipped from Alan's hand, crashing to the floor.