Chapter 3
After Daniel Reed left, I took the signed divorce papers to the law firm to file for dissolution of the marriage.
The only things I hadn’t packed yet were my daughter’s belongings. As I sorted through them, memories of my little girl came flooding back. Holding her favorite stuffed bunny, I broke down in tears.”
Suddenly, voices drifted in from outside–Daniel had returned, and with him was Sophie Lane.”
“Daniel, don’t you think my complexion looks much better?” she cooed, one hand resting on her belly, her voice thick with syrup. “The doctor says it’s all thanks to your careful care. Otherwise, the baby and I would have suffered. Not like some people… can’t even keep a proper delivery suite because their body’s too weak.”
When I stepped out, Daniel said casually, “Sophie’s pregnant and picky about food. She’ll be staying here to rest for a while- you’ll be in charge of cooking all her meals.”
Before I could protest, Daniel turned away to answer a call.
Sophie’s gaze swept over my faded maternity dress, her lips curling into a sneer. “Claire, I’m only saying this for your own good-
d–when a woman’s pregnant, she should treat herself better. And what’s that in your hand? Looks ancient. Don’t let it press against your baby.“”
Instinctively, I tightened my grip on the toy. It was Emma’s favorite bunny, worn down to threadbare fur but cherished as her nightly companion. After she was gone, it became my only tangible memory of her, and I fully intended to take it with me when left.
“That’s none of your business,” I bit out, not wanting to waste breath on her, and turned toward my daughter’s room.
“Hey, don’t walk away.” Sophie suddenly stepped forward and deliberately bumped my arm. The bunny slipped from my grasp, tumbling across the floor until it landed at her feet.
Before I could bend down to retrieve it, her ten–centimeter heel came down hard on one of its ears, the sharp crack of tearing fabric filling the air.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it,” she said with mock surprise, withdrawing her foot. Looking at the crushed toy, she smiled even more smugly. “This ragged thing should’ve been thrown out ages ago–keeping it is just bad luck. Right, Daniel?“”
A rush of blood surged to my head, my vision turning red. I slapped her across the face. “Sophie Lane! What do you think you’re doing?!”
One of the bunny’s ears was now shredded, and a button eye–hand–sewn by Emma herself–rolled onto the floor. My hands trembled as I picked it up, my fingertips brushing over a dark stain on the fabric. The tears came hot and fast.”
“Why did you push me?” Sophie suddenly cried out, clutching her stomach and stumbling back, her eyes reddening as she collapsed into Daniel’s arms. “Daniel, I didn’t mean anything by it… why is she so aggressive? What if she hurt the baby?“} Daniel’s face darkened as he turned on me. “Claire Whitmore! Have you lost your mind? Sophie’s in a delicate state–how could you push her? It’s just an old toy. I’ll buy you ten new ones!”
“An old toy?” My voice shook. “That was Emma’s! It’s the only thing my daughter left behind!”
“You have the nerve to bring up Emma?” he snapped. “Look at how you raised her–when we have guests, she doesn’t even come out to greet them.” He kept his arm protectively around Sophie.”
From behind him, Sophie peeked out and pulled a mocking face at me, silently mouthing, Serves you right.
Then she buried herself against Daniel’s chest, sobbing. “Daniel, I understand that she’s upset. I can take being pushed, but my belly hurts so much–what if something’s wrong with the baby?”
Daniel shot me one last venomous glare before scooping Sophie up and carrying her out.
I clutched the ruined bunny to my chest, my knuckles white, the ache in my abdomen tangling with the seething hatred in my heart.
