Time was running out. I quickened my pace, hastily packing the rest of my things.

The door burst open just as I was finishing up the last of my luggage in the master bedroom.

Gifford entered, supporting Dakota by the arm. Her belly was faintly rounded, and her face carried a deliberately delicate expression. One hand rested gently on her belly, as though she were the most fragile thing in the world.

“The master bedroom is for Dakota,” Gifford said flatly. “You’ll move to the guest room.”

His tone left no room for discussion, like a command from someone who believed Dakota was the true lady of this house.

I froze for a moment, then let out a cold laugh. “And why should I? This is our marital home. The master bedroom belongs to you and me.”

“It’s different now,” he said stiffly, avoiding my gaze. “Dakota is pregnant. She needs rest. The master bedroom is larger, and it gets better sunlight.”

I looked straight into his eyes, every word sharp as a blade. “Whose child is she carrying, Gifford? Do you dare say it’s yours?”

“Don’t forget who caused the death of our child,” I continued between my clenched teeth. “Don’t tell me you let my enemy get pregnant with your child.”

His expression darkened instantly. “Goddamn it, what nonsense are you spouting, Austria?” he shouted. “Nothing is going on between me and Dakota. Don’t use your filthy suspicions to judge her!”

“And don’t forget,” he continued harshly, “our child’s death wasn’t her fault. If you had taken better care of him, he wouldn’t have gotten sick and died from a fucking fever!”

At that, Dakota shrank slightly into his arms, her eyes reddening as tears gathered at the corners. Her voice trembled, choked with practiced gentleness.

“Don’t be so upset… If she doesn’t like it, I can sleep in the guest room. It’s fine, really.”

But even as she spoke, her hand clung tighter to his arm, her eyes filled with pitiful grievance.

“Look what you’ve done—you’ve frightened her!” Gifford snapped, stepping protectively in front of her. “I’m warning you, Austria. Behave yourself, or don’t blame me for the consequences.”

I looked at the two of them—this nauseating scene, and a wave of disgust swept through me.

This man, for the sake of a woman who had once caused the death of his own child, was not only driving me out of my own bedroom but also denying that shameful truth of what had happened.

“Fine, I’ll do that,” I said finally, forcing down the anger rising in my throat. “But on one condition.”

I pulled a document from my suitcase and handed it to him. “Sign this contract, and I’ll move out.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Gifford scrawled his signature across the paper.

“There. It’s signed,” he said coldly with a mocking smile. “Now, get out of the master bedroom.”

I took the document back and smiled faintly, raising my hand to show Dakota the diamond wedding ring on my finger.

“Dakota, remember this—until Gifford and I are legally divorced, we are still husband and wife.”

“And you,” I added, my tone sharp, “the moment you cross the line, you’ll be nothing but the third party in my marriage.”

With that, I turned and walked away.

At that moment, the last shred of attachment in my heart disintegrated completely.

If Gifford had cared for me at all, he would have realized that the document he’d just signed was not a contract… but a divorce agreement.

That night, I sent a brief message to Devon.

[Plans have changed. You can come pick me up tomorrow.]

He replied almost instantly with a simple [All right.]

After turning off my phone, I smiled faintly and rested my hand on my still-flat belly.

“Baby,” I whispered, “forgive me. I won’t let your father know about you. But to make it up to you, I promise, I’ll give you a home—a happy one.”

The sound of the guest room lock turning echoed softly as I sat curled up in the corner of the bed, holding my belly and looking through a worn photo album.

On one of the yellowed pages was a picture of my first child just after he was born—his tiny mouth curved in a faint smile, warm and soft like a ball of cotton.

“What little treasure are you looking at, Austria?”

Dakota’s voice broke the quiet. Gone was her fragile, pitiful tone she used in front of Gifford. Her words now dripped with blatant malice.

When I ignored her, she lifted the moon-shaped necklace that hung from her neck, tilting her head slightly as if to show it off.

My chest tightened. I lifted my gaze to meet hers.

I didn’t want to fight with her—not now, not while I still had to protect the baby I was carrying—but that necklace… that was the last thing my Grandma, the person who loved me the most, had ever left me.

If it weren’t for my baby, I would never have agreed to give that precious heirloom to the woman who had hurt my firstborn.

“Girl,” she said, smirking, “I don’t even want to keep a dead woman’s old necklace.”

Her tone sharpened, cruel delight glinting in her eyes. “But knowing that I stole it from you—that’s what really thrills me.”

“Dakota,” I replied, forcing my voice to remain steady, “what exactly do you want?”

“What do I want?” she asked back, scoffing. “You, of all people, should know best. These years, haven’t I made it obvious? Every single thing I did was to provoke you little by little.”

Before I could react, she yanked the necklace off her neck in one quick motion.

Realizing what she meant to do, I cried out, “Don’t!”

“Dakota, all the things you’ve done to hurt me—I can let them go. I won’t hold them against you. Just… please, give my grandmother’s necklace back,” I begged.

But she only curled her lips into a cruel smile, her words cold enough to freeze the air between us.

“I don’t need your forgiveness,” she sneered. “I just love watching you in pain. That’s what makes me feel alive.”

Then, she let go.

My grandma’s necklace hit the floor with a sharp clink, the sound slicing straight through my heart.

“Austria,” she said mockingly, “this isn’t enough.”

The heel of her stiletto came down hard.

And with a crack, the beautiful jade pendant shattered into several pieces beneath her shoe.

“No… don’t!”

I could only watch, helpless, as the moon-shaped jade pendant—carved by my grandmother’s own hands—was crushed before my eyes.

Suddenly, I remembered that day so clearly, when Grandma called me to her bedside for the last time.

“Sweetheart, don’t cry for me anymore. If you keep crying, you’ll stop being pretty.”

“Here,” she said, pressing the necklace into my palm, “this moon pendant—I made it myself. I hope that even when you go through darkness, you’ll shine again, just like the moon.”

She caressed my cheek with a smile. “Wear it, hm? And think of it as Grandma staying by your side.”

Over the years, I had replaced so many things—earrings, rings, bracelets—but that necklace had never left my neck. It was the one thing I treasured most.

Now, it lay shattered on the floor, my memories trampled into dust.

My mouth opened, but no sound came out. Tears welled in my eyes, spilling down not from sorrow, but from the sharp and unbearable ache in my chest.

Dakota looked at my pale face and laughed triumphantly. Grinding her heel against the broken pieces once more, she said, “Already heartbroken? It’s just a worthless keepsake. The real pain… hasn’t even started yet.”

After giving me that threat, Dakota snatched the album from my hands and produced a lighter.

The flame caught instantly; the photos were engulfed, and within moments, the album was reduced to a charred black bundle.

I watched helplessly as the smiling face of my firstborn in the photo was devoured by fire, the paper curling and turning to blackened ash.

“Dakota! Are you fucking insane?!”

I lost whatever shred of reason I had left. I lunged forward and shoved her to the floor, my nails digging deep into her arm.

She screamed and kicked at me, but pain didn’t stop me. I wanted to strangle her to end what she had done.

All I could see was that heap of ash growing smaller and smaller—the memory I had hidden away for three years.

“Stop!”

Gifford burst into the room and pulled me away from Dakota.

I slammed against the wall; my back went numb, but I still struggled to throw myself at her.

“Gifford! Don’t you have any conscience?” I spat at him. “That woman burned our son’s photos, and you’re still protecting her?”

“It was just an old photo album! Do you have to be like this?” He put Dakota behind him, his brow knotted. “She’s pregnant. What happens if you hurt her?”

“Pregnant?” I laughed, but the laughter was drowned by the rush of tears. “What about my son? He’s been dead for three years! Who will make up for him?”

“If it weren’t for that woman, our son wouldn’t have gotten sick and died!” I snapped.

I threw myself forward, trying to shove past Gifford to drag out the one who ruined everything.

“Have you had enough of this?” He tightened his grip on my wrists and stopped me from getting any closer to Dakota. “I told you she didn’t do it on purpose. Can’t you understand that?”

“No!” I shouted back. “I swear I’m gonna kill that bitch!”

At that point, I had lost all reason; I only wanted to go down together with that woman.

What I didn’t expect was for Gifford to raise his hand and hit me once more.

The sound was crisp in the stunned silence that followed.

His arm froze in midair; for a moment, his face showed panic and something like regret.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as if he wanted to say more.

But I couldn’t hear anything anymore.

The burn on my cheek stung, but it was nothing compared to the collapse inside my chest.

I looked at him and felt the last fragments of hope in me shatter completely.

He stood there rigid, remorse and fluster flickering across his eyes.

In that instant, the air hung heavy. He seemed about to speak, but his throat closed, and he could only watch the light in my eyes dim bit by bit.

“Gifford, look at her… Isn’t she crazy?” Dakota suddenly shrank into his arms, her voice sweetly affected. “When she hit me just now, her eyes were red like she wanted to kill me. I was so afraid…”

“Now, she plays the victim? If you ask me, she needs to be taught a lesson,” that bitch suggested.

Just like that, Gifford’s brow tightened again; whatever guilt he’d felt evaporated under Dakota’s words.

He lowered his hand and turned his expression cold. “Austria, you’ve terribly disappointed me.”