Chapter 2
For a second, nobody moved.
Not Ethan.
Not Diane.
Not me.
The only sound in the kitchen was my breathing.
Fast.
Shallow.
Terrified.
Then another wave of pain tore through my stomach.
I screamed.
That snapped Ethan back into motion.
He grabbed his phone.
“911. Now.”
Diane stepped toward him.
“Ethan, don’t be ridiculous.”
He backed away from her so fast he nearly slipped on the broken glass.
“Don’t touch me.”
His voice sounded different.
I had never heard him speak to his mother like that.
Diane’s face hardened.
“You don’t understand what you saw.”
“I saw you put something in my pregnant wife’s drink.”
“You saw powder.”
“And you just admitted you did it to Rachel.”
Rachel.
The name hit me almost as hard as the pain.
I knew Ethan had been married before.
I knew his first wife had died.
But he rarely talked about her.
He had told me the marriage had lasted less than two years and ended in tragedy.
He had never told me Diane had anything to do with it.
“Ethan,” I gasped.
He dropped beside me again.
“I’m here.”
“Who is Rachel?”
His eyes filled with something I couldn’t understand.
Fear.
Guilt.
Maybe both.
Before he could answer, the emergency operator spoke through his phone.
Ethan gave our address.
He told her I was eight months pregnant.
He said I had possibly been poisoned.
The word made Diane flinch.
“Stop saying that.”
Ethan looked up at her.
“What would you call it?”
“She’s overreacting.”
I stared at Diane from the floor.
My hands were shaking over my belly.
“He’s not moving.”
That was the sentence that broke Ethan.
His face collapsed.
He put one hand over mine.
“Come on, buddy,” he whispered toward my stomach. “Come on.”
Nothing.
No kick.
No roll.
Nothing.
Diane turned away.
I saw her glance toward the hallway.
Toward the front door.
Ethan saw it too.
“Don’t.”
She stopped.
“What?”
“You’re not leaving.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You cannot keep me here.”
“No, but the police can.”
“Police?”
For the first time, real panic entered her voice.
Ethan stood.
“You poisoned my wife.”
“You don’t know what I gave her.”
“Then tell me.”
Silence.
“Tell me!”
Diane’s lips pressed together.
Sirens approached in the distance.
Her eyes moved toward the purse on the counter.
I noticed it.
So did Ethan.
He reached it first.
Diane lunged.
“Give me that!”
Ethan pulled it away.
“What’s in here?”
“That is my private property.”
He dumped the purse onto the kitchen island.
Keys.
Wallet.
Lipstick.
Receipts.
A prescription bottle with the label torn away.
And a small plastic container.
White residue clung to the bottom.
Ethan stared at it.
Diane’s face changed.
The calm disappeared.
“Put that down.”
“What is it?”
“Ethan.”
“What is it?”
She slapped his hand.
The container flew across the counter.
At that exact moment, paramedics rushed through the front door.
Behind them came two police officers.
Everything happened at once.
One paramedic knelt beside me.
Another placed equipment around my stomach.
An officer told Diane to step away.
She began talking rapidly.
“My daughter-in-law has anxiety. She’s been unstable during the pregnancy.”
I looked at her in disbelief.
“She put something in my drink.”
“That is not true.”
“It’s on camera,” Ethan said.
Diane went silent.
The paramedic searching for the baby’s heartbeat frowned.
That tiny change in his expression nearly killed me.
“What?” I demanded.
He adjusted the monitor.
“Give me a second.”
“No. Tell me.”
Then I heard it.
A heartbeat.
Fast.
Uneven.
But there.
I burst into tears.
“Oh God.”
Ethan dropped to his knees.
“That’s him?”
“That’s your baby,” the paramedic said. “But we need to move.”
They lifted me onto a stretcher.
As they carried me toward the door, I saw one officer taking photographs of the kitchen.
The other was standing beside Diane.
She wasn’t in handcuffs.
Not yet.
But she wasn’t smiling anymore.
Our eyes met.
For one moment, she looked afraid.
Then she mouthed two words.
He knew.
I stared at her.
“What?”
She smiled faintly.
“He knew.”
The doors of the ambulance closed before I could ask what she meant.
Ethan climbed inside with me.
I grabbed his wrist.
“What was she talking about?”
“Not now.”
“No.”
“Emily—”
“No. She said you knew.”
His face went pale.
The ambulance pulled away.
“What did you know?”
He looked at the paramedics.
Then at me.
“Rachel was pregnant when she died.”
Everything inside me went cold.
“You told me she died after your marriage was already falling apart.”
“It was.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He swallowed.
“She was six months pregnant.”
I stared at him.
“And you never told me?”
“I couldn’t talk about it.”
“What happened?”
He looked down.
“She lost the baby.”
My throat tightened.
“How?”
“They said complications.”
“And then?”
“Three months later, Rachel died.”
The monitor beside me continued beeping.
“What happened to her?”
“Car accident.”
“And your mother just said she gave Rachel the same thing she gave me.”
“I heard her.”
“Did you suspect Diane?”
“No.”
He answered too quickly.
I saw it.
“You’re lying.”
“I didn’t know she hurt Rachel.”
“That is not what I asked.”
His eyes closed.
“I knew Rachel was afraid of my mother.”
My heart sank.
“How afraid?”
“She told me Diane was trying to destroy our marriage.”
“And you didn’t believe her.”
He said nothing.
That silence answered everything.
“You thought Rachel was crazy.”
“I thought she was grieving.”
“You thought she was crazy.”
“I thought my mother was difficult. Controlling. I didn’t think she was dangerous.”
I turned my face toward the ambulance wall.
Tears ran into my hair.
I had never felt so betrayed.
The man holding my hand was my husband.
The father of my baby.
And suddenly there was an entire dead woman between us.
A woman who had tried to warn him.
A woman whose story he had buried.
When we arrived at the hospital, nurses rushed me through double doors.
Ethan tried to follow.
A doctor stopped him.
“We need room.”
“I’m her husband.”
“We know.”
“Is my son okay?”
“We’re going to find out.”
The doors closed between us.
I was surrounded by bright lights.
Questions.
Blood tests.
Monitors.
People speaking in medical language I could barely process.
I answered everything I could.
What had I consumed?
Orange juice.
How much?
Two sips.
When?
Maybe twenty minutes before the pain started.
Did I know what had been added?
No.
A nurse squeezed my hand.
“Your baby’s heartbeat is still there.”
“Is he in danger?”
“The doctor is watching him closely.”
I started crying again.
“I can’t lose him.”
“We’re doing everything we can.”
An hour later, the contractions began slowing.
The baby’s heartbeat stabilized.
The doctor finally sat beside me.
“You and your son are very lucky.”
Lucky.
I almost laughed.
“The substance appears to have caused a serious reaction, but based on the amount you consumed and how quickly you received treatment, we are hopeful.”
“Will he be okay?”
“We’ll keep you overnight, possibly longer. Right now, he’s responding well.”
I covered my face with both hands.
Then the doctor asked, “Are you safe at home?”
I lowered my hands.
“My mother-in-law did this.”
“I know the police are outside.”
I looked toward the door.
“Is my husband out there?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t let him in yet.”
The doctor paused.
“Okay.”
I hated myself for saying it.
But I needed to think.
Because Diane’s words wouldn’t leave me.
He knew.
Two hours later, a detective entered my room.
Her name was Detective Lena Morales.
She carried a small notebook.
“Mrs. Carter?”
“Yes.”
“I need to ask you about what happened.”
I told her everything.
The juice.
The powder.
Diane refusing to call for help.
The security footage.
Then I told her about Rachel.
Detective Morales stopped writing.
“What exactly did Diane say?”
“The same thing I gave your first wife.”
She stared at me.
“Those exact words?”
“Yes.”
The detective slowly closed her notebook.
“Mrs. Carter, your husband’s first wife was Rachel Bennett?”
“I think so.”
Morales stood.
“I’ll be back.”
“Why?”
But she was already heading toward the door.
“Detective?”
She turned.
“What is it?”
Her expression had changed.
“Rachel Bennett’s death was investigated by my department.”
My breath caught.
“Why?”
“She died in a car accident.”
“That’s what Ethan said.”
Morales nodded slowly.
“But before that accident, Rachel called the police three times about Diane Carter.”
I felt the room tilt.
“What did she say?”
Morales hesitated.
May you like
Then she answered.
“She said her mother-in-law was trying to kill her.”
