Gifford turned his head toward the corner of the room, where a dog, chained by an iron link, lay quietly watching us. He was the pet Dakota had bought just last month.

My heart leapt to my throat, and every hair on my body stood on end.

“Lock her up with General,” Gifford ordered coldly, his tone leaving no room for discussion.

General—that was the dog’s name.

“No!” The word tore from my throat in a hysterical scream. I stumbled backward, nearly falling as I scrambled away in a panic. “Gifford, please! I’m afraid of dogs, and you know that! I’m allergic to their fur, have you forgotten?”

Suddenly, a sharp pain clenched in my lower abdomen. I pressed a trembling hand to my belly, where a tiny life was taking root.

“I can’t be agitated… I really can’t…” My voice cracked as I begged, “Please don’t do this…”

I didn’t dare tell him I was pregnant, but the terror in my voice was real.

“Afraid of dogs? Allergic?” Dakota sneered, unfastening the dog’s chain with a lazy flick of her wrist. “You’re such a good actress, Austria. General’s been here all along, hasn’t he? Funny how I never saw you show any sign of fear or allergy before.”

I trembled uncontrollably, forcing the words out in a whisper. “That’s because he’s always been chained far away from me.”

She laughed softly and nudged the dog with the tip of her shoe. “Allergies pass if you endure them. Fear can be overcome, too. You’ve just been spoiled. Time to reflect on that, don’t you think?”

The dog wagged his tail and began to inch closer, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

I felt the blood drain from my face, and my body went rigid with cold dread. I turned to Gifford, my eyes wide with pleading. “Gifford, my stomach hurts… Please… just this once, let me go…”

“Reflect on your actions, and fix that temper of yours,” he interrupted sharply. “Dakota’s right—you’ve been coddled too long. Spend the night here, calm down, and maybe then, you’ll realize what you did wrong. This is for your own good.”

Just like that, the door slammed shut with a deafening bang. The click of the lock that followed hit me like a hammer to the chest.

Gradually, like a predator, the dog crept closer and closer.

My skin began to itch, the allergic reaction already setting in, while waves of pain twisted in my belly.

I could only curl up against the wall, frantically waving my arms to keep the dog away.

But more than the fear of the animal, what terrified me most… was that this fragile yet precious life inside me might be forced away… by its own father’s cruelty.

Cradling my belly, I whispered desperately to the child within me, “Baby… your father treats me like this only because he doesn’t know you exist.”

“Please…” I begged, “don’t leave me because of him.”

The night dragged on endlessly, thick with fear and silence.

I didn’t dare fall asleep. I was terrified that the next time I opened my eyes, I would no longer feel the faint but stubborn pulse of life stirring beneath my hand.

Moonlight streamed into the room, carrying with it the faint trace of Dakota’s perfume through the crack of the door.

She stood in the doorway, which had been locked just hours ago, holding a small night lamp in her hand. The soft glow illuminated her face, her smile curving like that of a venomous snake.

“Wow. You’re still awake? Can’t sleep because the dog scared you?”

She shook the pregnancy test report in her hand as if it were a trophy. “I have good news for you,” she said with deliberate sweetness. “I’m pregnant—with Gifford’s child.”

Her smile widened as she admitted, “Actually, even back when you married him, he and I were already together.”

I shrank back into the corner. The dog had already been taken away, but the red welts on my body still burned. The pain in my lower abdomen came in waves, growing sharper each time until I could barely breathe.

“Bitch,” she continued, her voice dripping with scorn. “Did you really think you had all of his love?”

“You’re so damn funny,” she sneered. “That man you’ve been guarding so faithfully all these years—he’s been mine from the very beginning.”

“There’s something else you should know,” she added, shifting into a quieter and almost playful tone. She crouched down to my level, her voice lowering as if she were about to share a story.

“Your first child didn’t die because I opened the window that night and let in the cold air.”

In an instant, my blood froze.

“That night,” she said slowly, savoring each word, “I took him out myself—and threw him straight into the snow in the yard.”

She licked her lips, her eyes gleaming with twisted excitement. “He was so small—just a tiny bundle turning purple from the cold. I didn’t bring him back inside until the next morning. The whole time, he didn’t even cry or make any noise. Tell me, wasn’t he such a well-behaved little boy?”

“You…” My lips trembled as I bit down hard, tasting blood in my mouth.

After losing him, I had spent three long years torturing myself with guilt, believing it was my own carelessness that caused his death!

Dakota smiled like a devil. “You thought it was just a cruel winter that stole him away. But it was me. I was the one who sent your baby to hell.”

“Every ounce of guilt and self-torment you’ve carried these three years?” It’s all been a joke!”

Her laugh filled the room. Hatred coiled through my bones like poison, squeezing the air from my lungs. Seeing me collapse only made her laugh louder.

And then, she went berserk. “How dare you appear in the picture and steal Gifford from me?! Everything that happened to you? You deserved it!"

The next second, her voice lowered. “Enjoy my little secret while you can… because the next one going to hell… will be you.”

With that, the psycho turned and left, leaving me struggling in the dark.

I wanted to lunge at her and tear her apart with my bare hands, but my body refused to move. I could only watch her retreat, her victory-laced smile disappearing beyond the door.

A tearing pain ripped through my belly, and warm liquid trickled down my thighs. I knew, in that instant, that the baby inside me—the one who had barely arrived—was gone.

By dawn, the locked door finally creaked open.

Gifford stepped in, his gaze briefly flickering to the blood on the floor. For just a split second, something like pity flashed in his eyes.

“You’re on your period,” he muttered, frowning. “Why didn’t you say something instead of making a mess like this?”

He tossed a clean towel toward me, his tone softening slightly. “Come on, clean yourself up—”

Before he could finish, Dakota’s voice floated in from the doorway. She was holding her waist, her face painted with delicate fragility.

“Gifford,” she called sweetly, “I have an early prenatal checkup today. Why don’t you ask her to prepare something nutritious for me and bring it to the hospital? It’ll be a good chance to see if she’s really changed, and if she can behave properly with us now.”

Gifford hesitated. His eyes flicked between us, guilt shadowing his expression.

“Oh my, that’s a lot of blood,” Dakota said suddenly, widening her eyes in mock concern. “Austria, I came by last night and even brought you some sanitary pads. Why didn’t you use them?”

Then, as if struck by realization, she gasped. “Wait… you didn’t do this just to get Gifford’s sympathy, did you?”

She clapped a hand over her mouth, pretending she’d said too much.

“Austria! You almost fooled me!” Gifford snapped, his face darkening. “Did you hear what she said? Go to the kitchen, make a nutritious meal, and bring it to the hospital, third floor.”

I stared at his back as he turned to leave with her. Then, for the first time in a long while, I laughed.

“Gifford,” I muttered, “you didn’t even ask where all this blood came from. You just assumed I was trying to win your pity. How ridiculous.”

He didn’t know it yet, but today would be the last time he ever saw me.

Slowly, I pushed myself up, steadying against the wall. I didn’t go to the kitchen. I didn’t go to the hospital. Instead, I took a shower, changed into clean clothes, and sat quietly for a moment.

Today was the day Devon had promised to come and take me away.

Before I left, I prepared three parting gifts for Gifford.

One was my pregnancy report.

One was our divorce agreement.

And the last was a voice recorder—containing every word Dakota had said to me last night.

In the mirror, my reflection looked ghostly pale, but in my eyes burned a small yet steady flame.

“Gifford. Dakota. For the five years you stole from me—for the lives of my two children—I’ll make sure you pay it all back… with interest,” I swore.