My husband's first love pushes me down the stairs, and I am bleeding out from a difficult labor. Desperate, I call him for help. But instead of rushing to my side, all I get is a barrage of angry accusations: "You're about to give birth—can't you stop trying to harm Quinn and her baby out of jealousy?" "Quinn almost had a miscarriage! If anything happens to her or the baby, yours won't survive either!" The pain is so overwhelming. I can't even scream. Graham, have you forgotten? My baby is OUR baby. I'm dying here, pushed down the stairs by your precious Quinn, and all I'm asking for is for you to come and save me.