The Daughter He Rejected

Chapter 2

(Amelia POV)

The van was cold.

I sat in the back, handcuffed to a metal bar. My wedding dress was torn at the hem. My veil had fallen off somewhere. I had stopped crying.

“Why?” I whispered to no one.

The officer across from me said nothing.

I closed my eyes.

I thought of the first time I saw David. The emergency room. The blood on his eyebrow. The way he had said, “You have beautiful hands.” I thought of the fire. Rebecca’s face, trapped under the burning beam. The smoke. The heat. The blow to my head.

I thought of Vivian’s smile.

And I knew, with a certainty that settled deep in my bones, that I had been set up.

The van turned a corner. The city lights of Los Angeles blurred past the small window.

I pressed my hands against my stomach. The motion of the van made me nauseous. But this was different. This wasn’t just stress or fear. I had been feeling it for weeks. The nausea in the mornings. The tenderness in my breasts. The way certain smells turned my stomach.

No, I told myself. It’s just the wedding. Just everything.

But I was a doctor. I had delivered dozens of babies. I knew the signs.

I counted backward. My last period. Six weeks ago. Maybe seven.

My heart stopped.

Pregnant.

I was pregnant.

David’s child. Growing inside me, right now, unaware that its father had just called me crazy in front of two hundred people.

I wanted to laugh. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry.

Instead, I pressed my hand harder against my stomach and made a silent promise.

I will protect you. No matter what.

The van kept driving. The lights of the city grew smaller and smaller until there was nothing but darkness and the sound of my own breathing.