Three weeks ago, the elevator dropped.

I was thirty seven weeks pregnant, rushing to the company's elevator holding two paper bags of food I had cooked because Owen skipped breakfast again. Garlic rice. Soy chicken.

Then the elevator jolted and it fell.

The bags flew from my hands. Hot sauce exploded against my dress. Heat. Pain. Screaming metal. My body hit hard against the wall as I collapsed to the floor.

I screamed Owen’s name.

The elevator shuddered, stopped, dropped again, just a breath, just enough to steal the air from my lungs.

Then everything went dark.

When I woke up, pain was everywhere.

A doctor told me a maintenance technician heard the alarm. He forced the doors open. He carried me out while I was slipping in and out of consciousness.

But Owen? Owen wasn’t there.

They said they needed my husband’s consent to operate. There were risks. Time mattered.

They called him.

Again and again. Ninety-nine times but he didn’t answer.

When he finally did, his voice was flat. Annoyed.

“Laura, what now? I told you, I’m in a fucking damn meeting.”

My throat closed. “Owen! I fell… I’m— I'm bleeding. I’m at the hospital. Please.”

Footsteps. Laughter.

“Owen, baby, hurry up,” a woman said. “We’ll be late! You know how I hate to be late.”

Kelsey.

My twin sister.

The one who came back six months ago with bruises and tears and a story too tragic to question. The one I let into my home. Into my marriage. Into my life.

“She needs help, Owen,” I had said. “Please. You can’t turn your back on her.”

He relented, letting her move in. I cooked for her, drove her to appointments, made space in my heart for her while my own life bled away. Three months ago, she said she was pregnant with her ex husband. She made me help her. I believed her. God, I believed her.

I never saw it coming… that all her softness, her tears, her whispered thanks, were just venom in disguise. The jealousy she’d carried for years, the hatred of my life, my happiness… she had been waiting, planning, and manipulating from the shadows.

Tears blurred my vision. My hands went to my stomach, trying to protect the baby inside me, but it was too late.

Because of the delay, my baby didn’t make it.

I slipped into a coma and woke up days later, staring at the ceiling of a hospital room, and machines beeping beside me.

That’s when I heard Owen’s voice outside my door.

“Keep her sedated.”

“Mr. Ashford,” the doctor’s sounds nervous. “It’s been days. It’s dangerous to keep her under this long.”

“The transplant’s done, isn’t it?” Owen said. “Kelsey’s fine now. She can rest. Laura doesn’t need to know anything.”

My breath caught. My hands froze.

The doctor hesitated. “You mean… she doesn’t know what you—”

“I paid you to keep your mouth shut!” Owen snapped. “If you talk, you lose everything.”

And that was it. The sound of my life ending for real.

Days later, I saw them together in the recovery room. Owen brushing Kelsey’s hair. Kelsey smiling, hand on her stomach.

“You did it,” she said softly. “Our baby’s safe.”

Everything I lost. Those words didn’t just hurt but they shattered me.

I stumbled to the bathroom, locked the door, and looked at my reflection. I didn’t recognize her. The woman staring back was pale, hollow, done.

The door opened behind me, and Kelsey stepped in, all soft smiles and venom.

“Why are you hiding, sis?” she asked sweetly. “Don’t you want to see our baby?”

I turned around slowly. “Get. Out.”

She tilted her head. “You’re not being very nice. After everything I took from you, I thought you’d at least try to be grateful.”

“You slept with him?! You killed my baby!”

She smiled wider, “Killed? No, no. He was born alive. I have pictures.”

She swiped her phone, and the screen lit up... a tiny baby boy with my eyes, sleeping peacefully in a hospital crib. My heart stopped.

“W-where is he?”

Kelsey tilted her head, “Oh, you really don’t need him anymore, sis. Your baby… he didn’t make it.”

I froze, not sure I heard her right.

“Poor little nephew,” she continued, scrolling through another video. “Isn’t he a pretty boy? Look at him… all perfect… and now?”

She paused the video, tilting her phone toward me. The frame showed the baby, lifeless, tossed into a trashcan like garbage. No, no, no! My stomach churned, bile rising.

“Owen said it himself... Your baby was never his. You were cheating on him, weren’t you? The doctor just followed orders. He said your child wasn’t his, so…”

She shrugged, tilting her head like it was nothing. “Now he’s gone. And all I have is the stem cells they harvested for me. He’s dead, sis. Completely dead. Isn’t that… poetic? Aw, my poor hert goes with him.”

Something inside me shattered. My hands shot for her, but before I could reach her, she laughed, sharp and cold.

“You! You monster!” I gasped, but the words were hollow.

She didn’t flinch. “Monster? No, I just did what had to be done. And Owen… well, he’s very pleased with me.”

I slapped her hard and pulled her hair. She screamed for Owen. He came running, saw us, and before I could move, he grabbed me by the hair and threw me into the wall.

My head cracked against the tiles and everything blurred.

“You attacked a pregnant woman!” he shouted. “You don’t deserve to be a mother! That’s why your son died!”

And then he carried her out, leaving me on the floor, bleeding.

That’s when I knew.

He never loved me. He never would.

I picked up my phone with shaking hands. “Mr. Harris,” I told my lawyer, “Get the divorce papers ready. I want them signed in a week.”

I ended the call with my lawyer and didn’t pause.

My thumb moved on instinct and called Kleve Blackwood. My husband’s step uncle. Ten years older than me. The man Owen hated because Kleve saw things. Because Kleve never looked at me like I was disposable.

It rang once.

“Laura?”

I closed my eyes. “You asked me once if I’d ever choose you instead of Owen, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’m choosing now. I’ll marry you.”

That night, I heard my baby crying somewhere in the dark. I ran toward him, calling his name, begging him to stop, but Owen was there, looming over him.

“You think this baby’s yours? You cheated on me. That child isn’t even mine. From the moment he was born, his fate was to die.”

I screamed, “No! Stop! He's your child! Don’t say that! Don’t do this!”

Before I could reach them, he tossed my baby to the fire like he was nothing. Kelsey stood beside him, and laughing.

“Go ahead,” she jeered. “Run faster, scream louder. It won’t change anything.”

I ran, I begged, I tried to grab him but my feet felt like they were glued to the floor, then I woke up.

The lights of the hospital room burned my eyes. The smell of disinfectant clawed at my nose.

For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. Then the memory of the dream and everything else hit me, and my chest tightened again.

The doctor was standing by my bed, scribbling on a clipboard. He cleared his throat. “Mrs. Ashford… you really shouldn’t move around yet. If this happens again, you might not be able to have children anymore.”

I stared at him, numb. “Tell me something... How much did he give you?”

He blinked, confused. “I’m sorry?”

“How much did Owen pay you to take my baby’s stem cells… and let him die?”

His hand froze in midair. “Mrs. Ashford, that’s not—”

“Don’t!” I cut him off. “Don’t you dare lie to me.”

He looked down, pale. He didn’t answer. That silence said everything I needed to know.

“Give me the papers,” I said flatly. “I’m leaving.”

He hesitated, then handed them to me. My hands shook as I signed.

“You should stay a few more days,” he said quietly. “You’re not strong enough—”

“I don’t care,” I said. “I just want out of this place.”

He didn’t stop me again.

I pulled the blanket away and stood up. The pain hit me immediately, but it wasn’t nearly as sharp as the memory of the dream. My legs trembled, my vision blurred, but I kept going.

…

When I finally reached the mansion; the same one I’d picked out for Owen on our first anniversary... my chest felt like it was being crushed. Every corner, every curtain, every stupid little color choice… I’d imagined this as our family home, where our kids would run and laugh. Now it just felt… dead.

I pushed the door open. The sound of laughter hit me like nails.

Mrs. Ashford was in the living room, hovering over Kelsey with a teacup in her hand. She was fussing like a mother hen, telling the maid to bring food, insisting Kelsey eat, insisting she drink tea.

I stepped forward, “Looks… cozy in here.”

Mrs. Ashford’s gaze snapped to me, sharp and cold. She set the teacup down with a deliberate clink. “Why are you back now? Your child is dead. All because of your clumsiness, that stupid elevator fall. Honestly, I don’t know why you even bother showing your face.”

I froze, my blood turning to ice.

“Mother, don’t blame my sister.” Kelsey leaned back on the couch, her swollen feet sticking out, her hands resting on her belly. “She’s always been clumsy ever since we were kids. It’s not her fault. She tried…”

I wanted to speak, to scream that it wasn’t true, that Owen had killed my child but before I could get a word out, the front door opened.

Owen walked in, carrying a cake that Kelsey’s favorite. My stomach twisted, bile rising, rage burning. He froze when he saw me.

“What… why are you here? You’re supposed to be in the hospital,” he frowned as if I had interrupted his perfect little world.

“Why? So you could pretend I don’t exist?”

He stepped closer, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t start. Kelsey’s pregnant. You should just… stay out of the way.”

My voice went cold. “You… you let her take my baby.”

He flinched, a shadow of guilt crossing his face before he hardened it into anger. “Stop. If you weren’t so… fragile, maybe your child would still be alive.”

The words hit me like a fist to the chest. My knees threatened to buckle, but I turned my back so he couldn’t see me shaking.

“I’ll be gone soon,” I muttered, more to myself than to him. And I meant it.

…

When I reached the top of the stairs, I stopped in front of the nursery.

My hand hovered over the door. The smell of baby powder used to linger here—soft, warm, safe. I’d painted clouds on the ceiling myself, laughing when Owen told me I was too obsessed with the details.

I pushed the door open.

And everything inside me went still.

The room wasn’t mine anymore.

The crib was new. The curtains were pink. The walls that used to be baby blue were now painted white with gold stars. And above the new twin cribs were names I didn’t even recognize: “Baby Jaxton” and “Baby Jasmine.”

For a second, I couldn’t breathe.

I stepped inside, slowly, my hands shaking. Everything I had built, every tiny dream I had stitched into this room? It was gone. Just gone.

Then I saw it, my baby’s ultrasound photo lying on the floor, the glass frame cracked. I knelt and picked it up carefully, brushing the dust away.

“My sweet boy… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”

Something in me snapped.

I grabbed the pink curtains and yanked them down. The rods hit the floor. I tore the name sign off the wall, ripping it in half. The sound echoed. A scream tore out of my chest, raw and broken.

I kicked the crib until it cracked. I didn’t even care that my hands were bleeding, that glass was everywhere. I just wanted all of it gone. Every piece of them out of his room.

That’s when I heard it, Kelsey’s shrill, fake cry from the doorway.

“Oh my God! What are you doing?!” she screamed, clutching her stomach. “You’re going to hurt the babies!”

Her sobs were so loud that Mrs. Ashford came rushing in, “Kelsey! Sweetheart, are you alright?” she rushed to her side before glaring at me. “Laura, have you lost your mind? How could you destroy this nursery?!”

My chest heaved. “This was my baby’s room! You took everything from me. Even this—”

“Enough! Kelsey’s pregnant.” Mrs. Ashford cut me off, shouting, “You should be ashamed of yourself!”

Then Owen appeared in the doorway, “What the hell is going on here?”

Kelsey was sobbing into his chest before I could even speak. “She… she came in here screaming! She ripped everything apart, Owen. Our babies nursery!”

“That’s because you all killed my son!”

“Stop,” Owen said, voice flat. “You need help, Laura. You’re acting crazy.”

Something in me broke completely. I pointed at the walls, at the mess, at everything I had once loved. “This was our baby’s room, Owen. Ours! And you let her take it? You let her take everything!”

Owen stormed into the room, face twisted with rage.

Before I could even speak, his hand came flying. The slap cracked across my face so hard I stumbled back. Warm blood ran down my nose.

“Owen—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted. “You’ve completely lost it!”

Mrs. Ashford rushed to Kelsey, wrapping her arms around her like a precious doll. “My poor child. Are you alright?” she cried.

Kelsey sobbed harder, “Ever since we were kids, you’ve hated me, Laura. You had everything. Our parents’ love, the perfect life and I was the one always left behind! And now you’re still jealous?” she screamed. “Even after losing your baby, you can’t stand that I’m carrying Owen’s twins. At least my children are the true Ashford heirs!”

I froze, her words slicing through me. She smirked through her tears.

“You have no right to hate my babies just because your bastard child died!”

The room went silent. My blood roared in my ears.

Owen turned away from me like he couldn’t even stand the sight of me. “Guards!” he barked. “Get her out of here. Now.”

Two men came in and grabbed my arms. I tried to fight, but they dragged me across the floor like I was nothing. My blood smeared the tiles.

Mrs. Ashford’s voice rang behind me, cold and sharp. “I don’t ever want that woman stepping foot in this house again, Owen. Do you hear me? Ever.”

The last thing I saw before they threw me out was Kelsey clutching Owen’s shirt, pretending to cry, while he held her like she was the only thing worth protecting.

Then they dumped me to a dark basement.

Then I heard it.

A hiss.

My eyes flew open, and I froze.

Snakes.

There were snakes all around me.

Big ones, small ones, dark ones coiled in the corners, their bodies sliding over the floor. One of them brushed against my leg, and I bit back a scream.

The light above flickered and the wire door was padlocked shut. My whole body started shaking.

“Owen!” I screamed, my voice cracking. “Please! Get me out! You know I can’t—please!”

The door creaked open after a few seconds, and there he was—standing with his hands in his pockets, looking down at me like I was something disgusting.

“Maybe this will teach you to stop losing your mind,” he said flatly.

“Owen, please,” I begged, tears burning my eyes. “You know I’m terrified of snakes. Please, I’ll do anything, just get me out!”

He didn’t even blink. “You should’ve thought of that before you ruined Kelsey’s nursery.”

A hiss came from behind me. I turned just as one of the snakes thick, black, and slow slithered closer. I kicked back, screaming, but the thing lunged and sank its fangs into my ankle.

Pain exploded through me. I screamed until my throat went raw. “Owen! It bit me! Please, please, it bit me!”

But he didn't budge. He left me down there for 10 hours. And when he opened the room again, I was shaking and crying. He ordered his men to dragged me out by my wrist, and dumped me in the car. I could barely breathe, my leg was burning, my skin felt like fire. Everything blurred.

I woke up again to the sound of rain hitting the windshield. My body was shaking uncontrollably. Owen was driving, his jaw clenched tight.

“O-owen…” I whispered, barely able to speak. “It hurts. Please, the hospital—”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at me.

Then his phone rang.

Kelsey’s voice filled the car, “Owen! Please come home! The babies... something’s wrong! They’re not moving inside me.”

Owen’s hands tightened on the wheel.

“Owen…” I croaked, “please don’t—”

He slammed the brakes and pulled over. The rain was coming down hard now. He didn’t even look at me when he spoke.

“Get out.”

I stared at him, confused. “What?”

“Get out, Laura,” he said again, his voice flat. “Kelsey needs me.”

“You’re leaving me here? I can’t even stand—”

He finally looked at me, and there was nothing in his eyes. Nothing. “You’ll live. Those snakes are midly venomous. You won't die.” he said.

Then he pushed open my door and shoved me out. I fell to the wet pavement, the rain soaking through my clothes.

The car door slammed shut.

Then he was gone.

I tried to stand, but the pain in my leg was unbearable. The world tilted, my vision blurred, and before I could take another step… a gunshot rang on the air.

I winced from pain and dropped.

…

When I came back, everything was wrong.

A man in scrubs stood over me, his face careful and tired. "Mrs Ashford, you were brought in with a gunshot to the abdomen. You were in a coma for five days. We did emergency surgery. I am sorry. The damage was too bad. You won’t be able to carry a child anymore."

The words hit like a door slamming. "What do you mean?" I croaked.

He looked down. "The bleeding was severe. We removed what we had to to save your life."

My hands grabbed the sheet. Then the door opened and Kelsey glided in like she was a cloud. Soft pink dress, hand over her belly.

"Oh sister," she cooed. "I heard. How terrible about... your womb. What a tragedy. But think about it this way. Now you can focus on helping me raise my babies."

I tightened my fingers until the fabric bit my skin. "Why are you here?" I said, weak and burning. "Why are you always here?"

She laughed, "I just wanted to admire my work," she said and looked around like she owned the air. "I told them what needed doing. You survived the shooting, unlucky for you. But at least now you can never replace what I have."

A hot, stupid rage flared and I lunged for her hair. "You shot me!" I sobbed. "You had someone shoot me. How could you?! My baby is dead because of you."

Kelsey screamed then, high and sharp, "Help! Help me! Oweeenn!" she called, clutching at her belly, stumbling like I’d hurt her.

The door burst open.