Carter sat behind the wheel, hands gripping the steering wheel, not even starting the car. He just stared at it, like he was waiting for me to say something.

"Doesn’t it bother you? Aren’t you going to throw it away?" he asked, his voice almost pleading.

I rolled my eyes from the back seat.

Seriously?

We’re on our way to the hospital, and he’s still focused on something so insignificant. I’d already made up my mind to divorce him, and yet, here he was, stuck on some stupid detail.

I couldn’t keep the irritation out of my voice. "Isn’t she your sister? What’s the problem? Just drive."

Maybe it was because I’d been blocking him from seeing Kierra for the past few months.

I’d told him she wasn’t welcome in our house, kept her out of his car, and got upset over every little thing that involved her.

What had he said back then? “Kierra’s like a little sister to me. She doesn’t have anyone else. I can’t just ignore her.”

Fine. They could have their little life together. Let them take care of her for the rest of their lives. I was done.

Just as I was stewing in my thoughts, Kierra called Carter.

He didn’t even try to hide it. He answered the phone like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Hey, what’s up, baby?" he said, his tone soft and affectionate—the tone he always used with her.

I could hear Kierra’s voice through the phone, sweet and calm, "Carter, is Nadine mad at you? I can explain things to her."

She sounded so calm, so innocent like she actually cared about how I was feeling.

"No, she’s not mad," Carter said, his voice warm. "She’s not the petty type."

'Sorry to disappoint you, but I am petty.'

They talked for a while longer, mostly about nothing important, before hanging up. During their chat, Carter casually mentioned we were going to the hospital like it was no big deal.

By the time the call ended, we had pulled up to the hospital.

This was the closest hospital to our house, but I hated coming here. And not just because of the sterile smell of antiseptic and the cold, clinical atmosphere. The reason was simple. I was terrified of hospitals.

In fact, a few years ago, just before our wedding, I lost our baby.

We’d been talking about wedding plans—Carter and I had been together for two years by that point. After we graduated from college, we decided it was time to get married.

We set the date for the spring, after New Year’s.

But before we could even get the marriage certificate, I found out I was pregnant—about two months along—just before the holidays.

It was a surprise to everyone, especially the McGregors. Carter was over the moon. He was ecstatic.

"Nadine," he’d said, holding me gently, his voice full of wonder, "I’m going to be a dad. We’re going to have a baby."

I was just as happy. The thought of having a little piece of us inside me felt... real, tangible. Our love was becoming something more.

We had the wedding planned for the spring, by which time my belly wouldn’t be showing too much.

And since the McGregors are from up north, it’s always cold and snowy in the winter. So that day, while sitting on the couch, eating fruit and watching TV, Carter’s so-called sister, Kierra, came over.

At that point, I didn’t have a problem with her. I thought she was sweet and understanding.

Moreover, Carter had told me Kierra was the daughter of his father’s old driver. She’d lost both her parents when she was young, and the McGregors took her in like family. Her mother treated her like a daughter, so Kierra was like a sister to Carter.

I always tried to be kind to her, out of sympathy.

But that day was different. Kierra saw the snow outside and insisted we go out and build a snowman. She was only eighteen—still a kid, four or five years younger than Carter and me.

We all thought she was just playful, and innocent. But I was wrong.

What I didn’t expect was for Kierra to deliberately push me down the snow-covered steps outside.

I tumbled hard, landing with a sharp pain in my lower abdomen. And then, there was blood.

My baby.

When I woke up, the first thing I smelled was disinfectant.

I opened my eyes and realized I was lying in a hospital bed. Carter was sitting beside me, holding my hand. He looked exhausted like he hadn’t slept in days. His eyes were red-rimmed, and there was a tension in his face that I hadn’t seen before.

"Nadine, baby," he said, his voice shaky with relief, "you’re awake. Thank God."

I had a sinking feeling about what had happened, but I had to ask. I needed to know.

"Where’s our baby?" I whispered, barely able to get the words out. "Is my baby... still there?"

Carter held me in his arms, his voice breaking as he finally let out a sob. "We’ll have another child, Nadine. Right now, your health is what matters most."

I closed my eyes, feeling the tears falling freely down my cheeks. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. "Carter, it was Kierra. She pushed me."

His eyes went wide, shock and anger flashing across his face. "What? Kierra told me you just fell on your own. She would never do that. How could you think of her like that?"

That woman, Kierra Spencer, had a way of twisting the truth, turning everything around to make herself look innocent.

I felt my heart break all over again, thinking of the baby we lost. I couldn’t stay quiet anymore. "I didn’t fall. She dragged me outside to build a snowman, then she shoved me down the stairs."

Back then, Carter had been so in love with me. I could see it in his eyes—how he used to look at me.

He took a deep breath, trying to process what I had said. Then he comforted me and called the housekeeper to stay with me while he went to confront Kierra.

That evening, Carter came back to the hospital room, and his face was dark and guilty. "Nadine, Kierra denies pushing you. There were no security cameras where you fell, so there’s no proof."

He paused, rubbing his face in frustration, his exhaustion clear. "Her father asked our family to look after her before he died. He was the one who saved my dad’s life in that accident all those years ago. You need to understand, it’s... complicated."

Then, Carter’s mother entered the room, her face etched with concern. She told me to focus on improving— my health was the top priority. Then, she asked me to understand Kierra and about the situation with the family.

I could feel the weight of it all—the guilt, the pressure. I knew what was happening.

Even if Carter believed me, and I truly believed he did, the McGregors would never hold Kierra accountable. Not the way I needed them to.

With my eyes red from crying, I asked Carter softly, "Do you believe me?"

He squeezed my hand gently. "Nadine, I believe you. The baby we lost was mine too."

And that was it. I broke down in his arms, finally letting go of the pain I had been holding inside for so long. "Carter, I never want to see her again. Never."

Before leaving, Carter’s mom promised me that I wouldn’t have to see Kierra in the McGregor house again.

So, Kierra went abroad to study before our wedding. The McGregors told her she couldn’t return to California.

But despite everything, the emotional damage lingered.

I was physically weakened by the loss, and we never had any children after that. Five long years passed without a baby.

I developed a deep aversion to the smell of hospital disinfectant—it triggered memories of pain, loss, and fear. I couldn’t look at snow without that horrible jolt in my chest, remembering how it was tied to losing my baby. Most of all, I couldn’t stand Kierra’s innocent, sweet smile—the one she wore while doing horrible things.

But then, after five years, everything changed.

Carter’s mother started pressuring us about not having kids. We’d been married for five years, and still no children. Even though Carter and I had been living apart for some time, and he’d always protected me from the family’s constant demands, it seemed like that was no longer enough.

And now, Kierra was allowed to return to California. She was working for the McGregor company.

When I found out she was back, I completely lost it. I cried and threw a tantrum like a little kid, but Carter insisted that so much time had passed, and I needed to let it go.

"So much time has passed," he said, his voice calm but steady. "Even if Kierra made a mistake, she’s aware of it now. You need to let it go."

It hurt more than I expected. Carter had completely forgotten how eagerly he’d once anticipated the birth of our child. How he promised to be the best father, how he said he would always love me.

But now, it was clear. It was only me who was still holding on to the past.

I stared at the hospital and my thoughts were in a tangled mess. Then, I opened the car door myself. My knees ached with the effort, but the pain was nothing compared to the weight that pressed on my chest.

Carter rushed around to my side, ready to carry me into the emergency room. But I shook my head. I wasn’t that same girl who used to pout and act cute whenever something hurt.

"Get me a wheelchair," I said flatly.

Carter’s frustration boiled over. He was angry that I’d rejected his help again, but he clenched his jaw and held back his temper. Still, he refused to get me a wheelchair.

"No," he said firmly, "I’ll carry you in."

I didn’t argue. He picked me up, lifted me carefully, and walked me into the emergency room. The doctor quickly tended to my leg, stopping the bleeding and cleaning the injury.

Just as I was settling in, Carter’s phone rang. I didn’t look up. My attention was still focused on my leg, on the throbbing pain that wouldn’t seem to subside.

Carter stepped outside to take the call. When he returned, I was startled to see someone with him.

Kierra.

When she saw my leg wrapped in bandages, her face softened, and she stepped forward, her eyes filled with concern. "What happened to your leg, Sis? Are you mad at Carter? Did you two fight? Please don’t misunderstand—Carter was just celebrating with me tonight. It’s not what you think."

Kierra’s fake smile and overly sweet tone made me want to gag. Back in college, Carter and I had our share of those 'sugar-coated' types—nice on the outside, but full of ulterior motives underneath.

But back then, Carter had this incredible ability to spot fakes from a mile away. Nothing ever stirred up drama. He’d shut it down before it even had a chance.

But now? With Kierra practically waving her manipulative flag in our faces, Carter couldn’t see it. Not even a little.

I remember the first time I met Kierra at Carter’s place. Even then, she never called me by my name. She always referred to me as her sister-in-law. Back then, I thought it was normal since Carter and I weren’t married yet, and she was his 'adoptive sister.'

But now, after five years of marriage, she still dares to refer as her sister-in-law after cheating with my husband behind my back?

I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

I glanced at her, feeling a knot in my stomach, and said, "My mom only had me. So you're not my sister and we're never related to each other, Kierra."

She blinked, all wide-eyed and innocent, before replying, “Carter treats me like his sister, so naturally, you’re my sister too.”

I could feel my blood starting to boil.

Before I could even respond, Carter, who’d been listening, shot me a look and started scolding me. "It’s not Kierra who hurt your leg, so why are you taking it out on her? You’re really being unreasonable."

I was fuming. "She’s your dear little sister, not mine! Carter, don’t take your temper out on me. Just take your 'little sister' and get out of here!"