"You're sick. Stay in the guest room for the next few days so you don't pass it on to Caroline."

Tears slid from the corners of my eyes and seeped into the pillow.

I couldn't understand how a person could rot so completely.

He stood in the doorway, meticulously wiping his hands with rubbing alcohol, as though terrified of missing a single spot.

Footsteps pattered from the hallway, and the next second Caroline threw herself into Lance's arms.

The guest room door clicked shut. The lock turned. No matter how hard I pounded, no matter how loud I screamed, no one answered.

I was imprisoned. All because I'd come down with a fever.

I slid down against the door and sat on the cold floor. There was nothing left inside me to stir.

In the darkness my phone buzzed. A notification popped up on the screen.

Marriage match successful. One day until certificate issuance.

I tugged the corner of my mouth into something bitter and hollow, then looked away without checking the matched profile.

A full day passed. It was as though I'd been forgotten entirely.

My stomach, already fragile, cramped with pain after a whole day without food. My throat was parched and raw, and even the air I exhaled felt hot.

The door cracked open a sliver. Caroline stood as far back as she could, holding a stale, flattened piece of bread.

She tossed it at my feet the way someone might throw scraps to a stray dog.

Then she raised her phone and snapped a photo of me.

"Didn't you always say you despised homewreckers?"

"Now I'm going to make sure you know exactly what it feels like to be one."

Her smile was wide and triumphant. She turned away, typed up a caption, and posted it online.

She cast herself as the victim, a helpless pregnant woman, claiming I had seduced her husband while she was vulnerable.

In the photo I looked like a stray that had been kicked into the gutter. Matted hair. Hollow face. Utterly wrecked.

My phone erupted with notifications. It didn't take long before someone dug up my personal information.

"Looks decent on the outside, but behind closed doors she has no shame."

"Birth rates are already dropping year after year and she picks NOW to torment a pregnant woman? Rotten to the core."

"Maybe her mother was the same way. Like mother, like daughter."

I shook my head, a broken whimper escaping my throat. "No, that's not... it's not..."

I wanted to scream that Caroline was the real homewrecker. That I was the victim.

But then I remembered the marriage certificate, the one that had burned to ash.

My hand dropped slowly to my side.

After a long silence, I forced the words out in a voice scraped raw.

"Let me go. Whatever is between you two, I won't interfere anymore."

Caroline let out a cold laugh.

"No."

"I want you to watch this baby being born with your own eyes. I want you to see me take everything you care about, piece by piece."

She leaned in close to my ear. Her voice dropped to a whisper meant only for the two of us.

"Want to know when this baby was conceived?"

My chest seized. I stumbled back instinctively, but Caroline grabbed my arm and locked her fingers around it like a vice.

Her voice kept going.

"On your mother's death anniversary."

My pupils contracted. Hatred surged through me like a tidal wave.

I remembered that day. Lance had promised to come, and then canceled at the last minute.

"There's been an emergency at work. I can't get away."

"Ruth, let's go visit your mother together next year, okay?"

Now that I thought about it, there had been a faint breathlessness in his voice when he'd said those words.

But my grief had been so heavy that day. I hadn't noticed.

My fists clenched until my knuckles went white and my fingernails bit into my palms.

If I'd had a knife in my hand, I would have buried it in Caroline's stomach without a second thought.

Before I could even react, Caroline suddenly clutched her stomach and let out a low cry.

Hurried footsteps approached from down the hall.

Lance's hands were trembling as he steadied her. "What's wrong?"

"Lance, my stomach hurts so bad..."

The next second, his sharp gaze cut to me, fury rolling beneath the surface.

"If anything happens to Caroline or the baby, I swear you'll pay for it."

He scooped her up in his arms with practiced ease. Before leaving, he didn't forget to order someone to bring me along.

"If anything goes wrong, you'd better be ready to give whatever's needed!"

The car tore through the streets toward the hospital.

I rested my head against the window. Lance's voice filled the car, murmuring one reassurance after another to Caroline.

She clung to his shirt, panic threading through every word. "Lance, do you think the baby's going to be okay?"

He pulled her tighter against him, then reached over and slapped me across the face.

"I warned you to stay away from Caroline. Why did you have to provoke her?"

I lifted my eyelids but said nothing.

There was no point. He wouldn't believe a word I said.

The moment the car stopped, a team of doctors swarmed around us.

I stood outside the crowd, watching it all with hollow eyes.

Caroline turned to glance at me, then looked away quickly, shrinking into herself. "Lance, I'm so scared."

"There's a risk of hemorrhaging during delivery, isn't there? What if the blood bank doesn't have enough?"

Lance gripped her hand and followed her gaze until it landed on me.

A chill ran through me. I sensed what was coming.

"She's the same blood type as Caroline." His voice was flat. "Take her and draw blood."

I stumbled backward, arms flailing, but the next second I was seized and lifted off my feet.

"Let go of me!"

I thrashed with everything I had, but they pinned me into the chair. The needle pierced my arm, and bright red blood began flowing out of my body.

"We've already drawn five hundred cc's, Mr. James. Should we continue?"

Lance spared me a single cold glance. His voice was ice.

"Keep going."

Then he turned and walked away without looking back.

I could feel the life draining out of me, warmth seeping away bit by bit.

A nurse's voice drifted to my ears, soft with pity.

"If they keep drawing at this rate, she could die."

"Poor thing. So young, too."

My whole body began to shake uncontrollably. Then my consciousness plunged into darkness.

The light above the operating room stayed on.

Lance couldn't shake the restlessness clawing at his chest. Something felt off, like something had slipped beyond his control.

He chalked it up to worry over Caroline.

Doctors moved in and out in a steady stream, each pass winding his nerves tighter.

He didn't know how long he stood there before the light finally went dark.

A doctor emerged, carrying a bundled newborn.

"Mother and baby are both fine. It's a boy."

Lance took the infant carefully into his arms, and the breath he'd been holding finally released.

Then, suddenly, he remembered Ruth.

"Go bring Ruth Harding over."

But moments later, one of his men came rushing back, phone in hand, face pale.

"Sir, Miss Harding is gone."

"Her phone was on the floor of the room."

Lance took the phone. At that exact moment, a text notification lit up the screen.

Forced match activated. Your marital status has been updated. Congratulations on your marriage!