Looking at Maxwell's hypocritical smile, I felt an icy dread crawl up my spine. I pointed at Vivian.

[She looks so young. Does she even have any experience? Can she handle a newborn? More importantly, does she know how to sign?]

Maxwell's smile faltered. I waved a dismissive hand.

[Never mind. I trust your judgment. Besides, she's only here for the baby. She doesn't need to communicate with me.]

The tension in his shoulders eased. He shot Vivian a look. Vivian pouted sullenly but still obediently pushed the crib into the guest room.

For the next few hours, Maxwell massaged my shoulders, drew me a warm bath, and tucked me into bed, playing the part of the perfect, doting husband.

But late that night, sickening moans echoed through the silent villa.

My eyes snapped open, my senses preternaturally sharp in the darkness. I strained to listen, tracing the sounds to the guest room next door.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, started a recording, and slipped out of my room.

The door was ajar, a sliver of dim light bleeding into the hall. I saw two bodies tangled on the bed. I gripped my phone, swallowing back the bile that rose in my throat.

Maxwell's hand slid up Vivian's waist, his eyes glazed with lust. He bit her shoulder and muttered, "My sweet Vivian. It's only been two months since you gave birth, and your body feels even better than before. Not like Harper. She's got this roll of fat on her stomach that practically spills over."

The rip of fabric, the slick sound of kisses, and Vivian's breathy moans filled the room. Maxwell didn't bother to lower his voice, his words dripping with contempt as he chuckled.

"You know, Vivian? Ever since Harper went deaf, she just lies there in bed like a corpse. Sometimes she makes these strange little noises, and I just want to clamp a hand over her mouth. But you... baby, let me hear you scream for me."

My hand holding the phone went slack. My mind reeled, pulling me back through time.

Maxwell and I had grown up together. Everyone said we were a match made in heaven.

Three years ago, when I learned I was going deaf, Maxwell cried harder than I did. Consumed by shame and fear, I asked him if he could ever accept a disabled wife. He just held my hand tighter, his gaze unwavering.

"Harper, I'm only afraid that you'll push me away."

In just a few days, he had learned sign language. He patiently taught me every gesture, even as I broke down, screaming at him and smashing every vase in the house.

The ashtray I hurled at him cut his forehead. He just wiped the blood from his brow, pulled me into his arms, and traced words into my palm.

[Harper, no matter what, I will never leave you.]

I could still remember the sincerity in his eyes as if it were yesterday.

A sharp cry from the baby snapped me back to the present. Lily was awake. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay hidden. It wasn't the baby's fault.

Then I heard Vivian, the child's own mother, tugging on Maxwell's arm in a flirtatious whine. Her voice was sickly sweet.

"Lily's fine. She'll cry herself back to sleep. Maxwell, pay attention to me. Isn't having me enough?"

Maxwell hesitated, but lust quickly won out over paternal duty. His hands found her waist again.

"Mmm, we have to be quick. I need to get back—"

Vivian silenced him with a kiss. I stopped the recording and slipped back to my room.

Through the wall, I heard Maxwell's low chuckle.

"Vivian, how did you even come up with this? Pretending to be the nanny... living right under her nose? God, this is thrilling."

An hour later, the door creaked open. Maxwell tiptoed inside.

He gently tucked the covers around me and placed a soft kiss on my forehead.

"I love you, Harper."

What a fucking joke.

The next morning when I woke up, Maxwell was already dressed. He brushed a fingertip against my nose, signing for me to sleep in.

As soon as the bedroom door clicked shut, I heard his exaggerated voice from downstairs.

"Honey, even a three-star Michelin chef couldn't make Eggs Benedict this good!"

Through the window, I saw the sleek black Maybach parked outside, his driver, Carter, waiting by the villa's entrance.

Vivian's voice was a cocktail of delight and complaint. "Darling, wait! What about my good morning kiss?"

The two flirted like a honeymooning couple.

"I'm heading to the office. Board meeting tonight. You take care of the baby, and don't blow our cover."

As the car disappeared down the drive, I took a deep breath. Just then, my phone buzzed with a text.

[Darling, save room for dessert tonight. I'm bringing you your favorite strawberry cake.]

[Okay.]

I replied curtly and went to the bathroom. Staring at my pale face in the mirror, my gaze slowly hardened into steel.

When I opened my bedroom door, I heard Vivian cursing in the kitchen. "That damned deaf bitch, why didn't she just die in the crash?"

"So what if you knew Maxwell a few years before me? You're just riding your family's coattails. Why do you get to be Mrs. Reed, while I have to play nanny in this stupid uniform?"

With a thud, she slammed a cutting board onto the counter and began chopping furiously, as if venting all her rage on a carrot.

"Harper, just hurry up and die!"

I averted my eyes and quietly pushed open the guest room door.

Swallowing the nausea, I saw it: a discarded condom wrapper and one of Vivian's earrings on the nightstand. Beside them, a few strands of her fallen chestnut hair.

I pulled on a pair of gloves and moved with precision, taking Maxwell's toothbrush from his bathroom and carefully swabbing a saliva sample from the baby's bottle. I placed everything into pre-labeled sealed bags.

The baby lay in her cradle, her breathing soft and even. Looking at her innocent face, my heart clenched. But I had to be ruthless.

I had just plucked a few strands of the baby's fine hair when a sharp cry pierced the air. I jumped, quickly scooping the child into my arms and rocking her gently, trying to soothe her.

Then, a cold voice came from behind me. "Mrs. Reed, what are you doing in here?"

My body tensed, ready to turn.

But reason took over. I forced myself to keep my back to her, feigning ignorance as I continued to pat the baby's back.

It wasn't until Vivian circled around to face me that she tapped my shoulder insistently.

I feigned a startled gasp, then, seeing it was her, offered an apologetic smile and carefully placed the baby in her arms.

Back in my room, I changed into an inconspicuous outfit and slipped out of the house, ignoring Vivian's suspicious stare.

I took the samples from Maxwell, Vivian, Lily, and myself to a private lab downtown. I requested a rush order on three separate paternity tests. The results would be ready in a week.

I nodded. Standing before the elevator, I hesitated for a long moment before finally pressing the button for the obstetrics and gynecology department.

I had to know what really happened in that operating room.

As the elevator ascended, the feeling of weightlessness made me close my eyes. The thought of what I might learn made my chest constrict, my heart seizing so tight I could barely breathe.

"Dr. Harrison, tell me. What happened to my baby?"

Dr. Harrison was both shocked and terrified to see me. The moment I spoke, all the color drained from his face.

I locked his office door and placed a recording pen on the table. "Don't tell anyone I was here, especially Maxwell. If you do, or if you lie to me, the contents of this pen, along with all the other evidence I have of your little arrangement, will be sent to the police. Dr. Harrison, you'd be an accessory to murder."

He collapsed into his chair.

"I... I disposed of the body that day. Mr. Reed told me to do it quickly, to leave no trace." He hung his head, unable to meet my eyes. "Harper, I'm so sorry. I had no choice. Mr. Reed threatened to cut off all of the hospital's funding..."

On the drive home, Dr. Harrison's confession echoed in my head, each word another turn of the screw in my heart. The rage inside me smoldered, ready to ignite.

That evening, Maxwell walked in with a smile, carrying that damned strawberry cake, and announced his grand plan.

[I'm throwing a huge christening for Lily. I want the whole world to see how happy our family is!]

His eyes sparkled, his mood buoyant. Even his signing seemed lighter, more fluid than usual.

And my child... my child didn't even get a funeral.

I blinked hard, forcing back the tears, and gave him a calm, emotionless nod.