The next day, Quentin led me out of my cabin and into a small banquet hall. There weren't many people, but most of them were familiar faces, all wearing smug, gloating expressions.

It suddenly hit me why Quentin's friends had always acted so weirdly around me—polite but keeping their distance on purpose.

I looked down, not wanting to meet their mocking stares.

Just then, a woman called out from nearby, "Quent, you're here! Where's my birthday gift?"

I looked up and saw Amelia Jefferson heading our way. She wrapped her arm around Quentin's and shot me a look of disdain as she sized me up.

"Winnie, what happened to you? You look hideous now, and you're making Quent look bad. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I ever ended up like you," she quipped.

She was Felix's sister. I'd only met her a couple of times, and I had no idea how to respond to her cruel jab. All I could do was lower my head again. I couldn't figure out why Quentin had brought me here.

Suddenly, a glass of red wine smashed at my feet, splashing a few drops onto my shoes.

"Oops, my hand slipped. Winnie, why don't you clean that up?" Amelia's voice dripped with malice.

I snapped my head up and looked at them. Then, I met Quentin's eyes.

"What are you waiting for? You didn't think I brought you here to actually enjoy the party, did you?" he questioned.

The frost in his stare sent a chill down my spine. The image of Mom with her eyes closed flashed in my mind. I looked down and slowly crouched.

Before I could reach the broken glass, something slammed into my back. I toppled forward onto my knees. My palms hit the shards, and they dug into my skin.

Felix's voice, light and casual, floated over to me. "Oh, sorry. I didn't see you there."

The pain was so intense that it stole my voice. I felt like I was pinned to the ground and couldn't move. Then, out of nowhere, a pair of hands yanked me up.

"You can't even handle something this small, huh? All you do is embarrass me! Get out!" Quentin chided.

He hauled me up roughly, dragged me back to the cabin, and slammed the door behind him as he left. By then, the pain had spread so much I couldn't tell where it was coming from, and the smell of blood hit me.

Just then, someone walked into the cabin and stood beside me. I turned my head and saw two medical staff in white coats.

Without saying a word, they opened their first-aid kit and started cleaning my wounds. After a quick cleaning and bandaging, they packed up their stuff and left.

Just before the door closed, I heard one of them say, "How are we supposed to deal with that body from this morning—the one who died from a heart condition? Does this ship even have a morgue? This is my first time on board, and we've already got a death."

I jumped off the bed and rushed to the door before it closed completely. I grabbed that person's sleeves and held on tight.

"What was the name of the person who died from heart disease?" I asked. My voice sounded off like it wasn't even mine.

The medic stared at me, shocked and caught off guard. Then, he stammered, "I think the last name was Grant…"

A wave of shock hit me hard. I couldn't even hear myself anymore as I screamed, "Take me to her! I have to see her!"

The medic winced as I gripped him too tight. He struggled to pry my fingers off and said, "Calm down. I'll take you there."

The short walk felt like it dragged on forever. Finally, I saw an iron bed covered with a white sheet.

Quentin's hesitant look from that morning flashed in my mind. The air around me felt like it froze. I crawled up to the bed, silently begging it not to be Mom, over and over. It couldn't be her.

Then, I pulled back the sheet. Mom's face was under it, unnervingly still.

I forgot how to breathe and collapsed onto her chest, which wasn't moving anymore. Her body's coldness cut through me. I screamed for her, desperate to make her open her eyes. But nothing happened.

My mind went blank. I didn't know how long it was before Quentin appeared behind me. I didn't hear anything he said. All I could feel was him trying to pull me away from Mom.

Suddenly, I saw a door leading out to the deck. Without hesitation, I broke free and ran toward it, throwing it open. I climbed onto the railing, the ocean wind biting at my face.

Quentin's angry shout came from behind me. "Winnie! Get down from there. Are you even brave enough to die? Do you want to kill our baby, too? Have you forgotten how hard it was for you to get pregnant?"

I turned to face the man I now hated with everything in me. I pulled a paring knife out of my pocket, the one I'd taken from the banquet hall.

"I'm not keeping this baby of yours!" I yelled.

Without thinking twice, I drove the knife into my belly and let myself fall backward into the open air. I didn't feel any pain.

In those last moments before I fell, I saw Quentin lunging toward me, his face full of shock and pain. I thought maybe it was just my mind playing tricks as my life slipped away.

The freezing ocean swallowed me whole. It felt almost like Mom's arms wrapping around me.

Was I finally going to see her again?