Chapter Nine
One final chance, Camille or whatever she was called, had a once in a lifetime opportunity to leave Canada before I let the hound dogs out on her.
Gustavo had fallen right into my trap and acted like a woman beater, and by the look on Camille's face I had a feeling that she was starting to believe me.
I whimpered, exaggerating my despair to Camille who appeared to be taking the bait.
The scar I had shown her was one self-inflicted by me a few years after my first miscarriage.
After I was rushed to the pack hospital and the doctor confirmed the child in my womb dead, Gustavo combusted into a fit of rage,
“You killed him, you killed my son!” He spat out aggressively.
In my nine months journey, Gustavo did not as much as glance at me or showed me that he cared for his pup.
