Back at James' residence, Linet sat stiffly on the edge of the couch, her fingers clutched tightly around a half-empty cup of tea that had long gone cold. The television played in the background, but her mind wasn't there. She was far, far away—stuck on the image of Rita, lying on the office floor, clutching her stomach, with James rushing to help.
Her heart thudded in her chest, not from guilt—but rage. Rage that Rita, the woman she had tried so hard to erase from James's life, was now pregnant. With his child.
To make matters worse, James' mother had grown unusually quiet around her. Cold. Distant. The same woman who once praised her beauty, her poise, who welcomed her with warm arms and home-cooked meals, now barely spared her a glance.
Just that morning, Linet had overheard
