Chapter 2
573 Words
Late at night, the persistent buzz of a phone vibrated on the nightstand.
Karl shot up and grabbed the phone. He turned his head, as if checking to see if I was awake.
I lay on my side, facing away, eyes closed, keeping my breathing slow and steady.
A few seconds later, he threw off the covers, walked to the balcony, and answered the call.
5 minutes later, he slipped into his coat and crept back to bed.
"Something urgent came up at the warehouse in the suburbs. I need to go check it out. Go back to sleep."
He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then turned and strode out of the room.
The front door clicked shut downstairs.
I opened my eyes and sat up. My phone had some texts from an unknown number.
Unknown: Saw everything at the hospital today, didn't you?
Unknown: Karl and your parents never loved you. They loved me.
Unknown: You're nothing but an extra. Go check Karl's study if you don't believe me.
I threw off the covers and got out of bed, pushing open the study door.
The bottom drawer of the desk had a combination lock. In 6 years of marriage, Karl always said inside there were confidential company documents. I'd never touched it.
I reached out and punched in the birthday of the boy I'd heard at the hospital.
A beep, and the lock sprang open.
It turned out he really did love that woman's child that much.
The drawer held only a black phone. No screen lock.
I swiped it open and tapped into the photo gallery. Hundreds of photos, packed tight.
The baby's one-month celebration. A kindergarten parent-child sports day. A tropical vacation.
In every single photo, Karl was holding the boy up in the air, Selena leaning against his shoulder.
I kept scrolling.
Then my biological parents appeared in the frame.
They were wearing the expensive cashmere sweaters I'd bought them last year, each holding one of the boy's hands, grinning at the camera.
When was the last time I'd taken a picture like that with them? I couldn't remember.
They had been the real family all along.
I found a data cable, connected the phone to my laptop, and started copying the photos.
While I waited, I idly rummaged through the bottom of the drawer. Beneath a stack of papers, pressed deep into the corner, was a glass medicine bottle with no label.
Underneath the bottle was a folded piece of paper. A drug information sheet.
Long-acting high-dose contraceptive.
The glass bottle was still half-full of white powder.
It made no sense.
For the past 5 years, every single morning, Karl would walk into the kitchen, make a glass of milk, and bring it to me.
"Ella, drink this. The doctor says it'll help regulate your body. We'll have a baby soon."
I'd wanted a child so badly. I'd gone to the hospital countless times, closed my eyes, and let those long needles pierce my lower abdomen, over and over.
I'd sat on the cold bathroom tiles late at night, crying until I gagged, because I couldn't get pregnant.
And he knew all of this.
He knew I was suffering, and he still schemed against me.
It made me sick.
All of them made me sick.
After pulling out the USB drive, I put everything back the way I'd found it and left as quietly as I'd come.
- Writer
