They Faked Death, I Sold Their Assets

Chapter 3 The Sudden Miscarriage

By the time our plane landed in Yewdale, morning rain was falling lightly from a gray sky. The air smelled of wet earth and grass.

Dragging our suitcases behind us like refugees, we followed the address from an online rental listing to a tiny riverside courtyard house on the edge of Heritage Town.

The small courtyard house had white walls, dark roof tiles, and an old wooden gate that creaked softly when pushed open. Inside stood a tall osmanthus tree beside a worn stone table and chairs, the entire place simple but unexpectedly clean.

There were only two bedrooms, a cramped kitchen, and a tiny living room. This would become our new home.

The moment the gate closed behind us, the noise and chaos of the past few days seemed to vanish completely, leaving behind nothing but the quiet sound of rain against the roof tiles and the river flowing softly nearby.

Helen stood alone in the center of the courtyard, looking completely lost. After spending decades as Mrs. Vance, leaving behind that life and identity all at once seemed to have ripped away the roots of her entire existence.

Quietly, I carried our luggage inside and cleaned up as much as I could. By the end, exhaustion crashed over me so hard I could barely think straight anymore.

That evening, Helen and I sat across from each other in the small kitchen eating takeout from a nearby shop.

The silence between us felt suffocating. Then suddenly, Helen lowered her chopsticks.

"Anna…" Her voice trembled with panic. "What if those people find us?"

"They won't." I set down my bowl and spoke as steadily as possible. "And honestly, they probably won't dare come after us anymore."

Helen looked at me blankly. "Why?"

"Before we left, I investigated Victor and the people working for him," I explained calmly. "They've been running illegal loan operations for years. The interest rates alone are enough to get them arrested."

"I also copied evidence of violent debt collection and illegal lending from their records."

Helen's eyes widened slowly.

"I sent everything to them before we disappeared," I continued. "I told them that if they ever tried to harass us again, I'd hand the evidence directly to the police and the media."

I paused briefly. "But if they stay quiet for the next three years, maybe they'll still recover part of their money eventually."

Helen stared at me blankly, struggling to process everything I had just said.

After a long silence, she finally let out a deep, exhausted sigh, and the tension in her shoulders slowly loosened.

The panic in her eyes faded little by little, replaced by the numb calm of someone who had already been pushed far beyond her limits.

"Fine," she murmured quietly. "Fine…"

Then she covered her face and began crying softly through her fingers. This time, she was no longer crying for those two men.

She was mourning the life she had wasted being deceived, betrayed, driven into a corner, and nearly destroyed by the people she trusted most.

Watching her break down like that made my chest ache unbearably. Days of constant fear, pressure, and emotional whiplash had already pushed my own body to the edge. Then suddenly, a sharp cramp twisted violently through my lower abdomen.

I doubled over with a muffled groan as cold sweat instantly covered my forehead.

"Anna!" Helen rushed toward me in panic and grabbed my arm. "What's wrong?"

The pain only intensified. My vision blurred so badly I could barely see her face anymore. I tried to tell her I was fine, but not a single sound came out. The last thing I remembered was Helen frantically calling emergency services.

When I woke again, the sharp scent of disinfectant filled the air around me as I stared up at the white hospital ceiling, an IV needle taped to the back of my hand.

Helen sat beside the bed with swollen red eyes, but for the first time in days, there was a strange steadiness in her expression. The moment she saw me awake, she leaned forward immediately.

"Anna, you're awake." Her voice was hoarse but gentle. "How are you feeling? Don't be scared. The doctor said you're alright now."

My throat felt painfully dry. "What happened to me?"

Helen took my hand firmly in both of hers. "Anna…" She hesitated briefly before continuing softly. "You were pregnant. About eight weeks along."

My mind went completely blank.

'Pregnant? Marcus's child.'

While he was busy planning his escape and abandoning me without hesitation, a life had already begun growing quietly inside me.

Helen's tears fell onto the back of my hand, burning hot against my skin.

"But the doctor said your body was under too much stress, and your emotions were too unstable…" Her voice broke. "The baby didn't survive."

For a long moment, I simply stared ahead silently. That tiny life had arrived without my knowledge and disappeared just as quietly in the middle of all this betrayal and chaos. The entire thing felt so absurd that I almost wanted to laugh.

When Marcus chose to abandon us, had he ever once thought about the possibility of a child?

Tears finally streamed down my face uncontrollably, not so much from grief as from the crushing absurdity and irony of it all.

Helen hurriedly wiped my tears away with clumsy, trembling hands.

"Don't cry, Anna. Please don't cry," she said anxiously. "You're still young. The baby's gone, but that's alright. Right now, the most important thing is improving your health."

Her comforting words came out messy and disorganized, but she still held tightly onto my hand the entire time.

"Don't be afraid," she whispered hoarsely. "From now on, Mom will take care of you."

I looked at the woman in front of me. In just a few days, she had lost her husband, her son, her home, and the entire life she once depended on.

She had once been fragile enough to collapse at the slightest storm, yet now she was forcing herself to stand back up from the ruins and shield me with shoulders that no longer felt broad enough to carry the weight.

I closed my eyes as tears continued sliding silently down my face. Somewhere deep inside the part of me frozen solid by betrayal and despair, something slowly began to thaw.