I took the miscarriage report from my pocket. I placed it together with the other documents with trembling hands.

Tears streamed down my cheek, soaking the papers like a final farewell.

I took a deep breath and put them into the suitcase.

Just then, Clayton’s confused voice sounded from behind me.

“What are you doing?”

I hurriedly closed the suitcase and wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes.

Clayton walked over. His gaze was fixed on the suitcase.

...

“Why are you back?”

I stiffly changed the subject.

Clayton approached me. He raised his hand and touched the corner of my eye.

“Have you been crying?”

He stared blankly at the wetness on his fingers, seeming at a loss.

I forced a smile and casually explained, “It’s just the mood swings from my pregnancy hormones. I’ll be fine in a moment.”

Only then did Clayton sigh in relief.

“Oh, good. I forgot to ask if you want to come get the new rosary with me. Do you?

“I know it’s really important to you.”

I was caught off guard that he still remembered how much the rosary meant to me.

“No, I’m swamped the next couple of days. You go ahead.”

Clayton nodded and turned to leave.

Just before closing the door, he asked once more for confirmation.

“Are you really alright?”

“If I said I wasn’t, would you stay?”

Clayton paused, then laughed and said, “Hazel, stop kidding around. Ruby is still waiting for me at the hospital.

“I’ll transfer another five million dollars to your account. Get some rest tonight. Don’t wait up for me.”

Then he closed the door and left. I stood there blankly for a long time.

Only after a long while, I chuckled to myself.

‘Clayton, I stopped waiting for you a long time ago,’ I thought.

That night, I packed up all my belongings.

I asked the housekeeper to help me carry those bags downstairs.

I set them all on fire.

As the flames surged upward, I felt a profound sense of relief from the bottom of my heart.

The next day, as I was leaving for the airport with my luggage, Clayton sent a message.

He said that he got the rosary, and I could go to the hospital to get it.

When I arrived at the hospital, Clayton was not there.

Ruby smiled and asked, “Hazel, what do you need Clayton for?”

I gave her a cold smile and replied calmly, “I’m here to pick up the rosary. Where did Clayton leave it?”

Ruby’s expression shifted to one of exaggerated feigned surprise. She then turned and walked toward the washroom.

She then came back out and said, “You mean this one?

“Clayton said I could borrow it for a couple of days. My hand slipped just now while I was using the toilet, and it accidentally fell in.

“But I figured, since it’s for a dead person, who cares if it’s dirty? Maybe your baby will like it even better down there.”

She was smiling triumphantly, as if she could not wait to see me break down and lose my mind.

I looked at her, took the rosary, and shoved it straight into her mouth.

She shoved me away frantically and fled to the bathroom to throw up.

I smirked with grim satisfaction and walked away.

Ten minutes later, I was in a cab headed for the airport.

Just then, Clayton finished his work and returned to the hospital room.

“Ruby, did Hazel come by while I was away?”

Ruby suppressed her urge to retch and hid the rosary under the blanket.

“No, no one was here.”

Clayton nodded and picked up an apple to peel.

“Okay. Did you put my rosary somewhere safe for me?

“I’m going home this afternoon. I’ll pass it to Hazel then.”

Ruby hummed in acknowledgement and took the freshly peeled apple from Clayton.

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

A nurse entered and asked, “Which of you is a family member of Hazel Bronwyn?

“She forgot her medication for the miscarriage.”