The Night We Both Went Into Labor

Claire Whitmore's stern voice rang from the doorway.

The air froze. The maids released me in panic and lowered their heads.

Mrs. Ward stood stiffly in place, her face ashen, both hands smeared with blood.

Graham's parents had died when he was young. He and his older sister, Claire, had depended on each other. Half of everything Graham had today was because of her.

In the Whitmore family, her words carried more weight than Graham's.

Claire's gaze swept across the purple bruises on my abdomen, the blood-soaked bed, and the unfinished stitching below. She saw the child's hair faintly visible through the blood and staggered, grabbing the doorframe.

"Who gave you the nerve?" Her voice trembled. "How can your hearts be so poisonous?"

"It… it was Mr. Whitmore. He said we had to wait until he returned…"

Before Mrs. Ward finished speaking, Claire slapped her twice. Blood appeared at the corner of Mrs. Ward's mouth.

"That woman again!" Claire shook with rage. "I have no brother this cold-blooded. The Whitmore family has no beast who harms his wife and child."

"She is Mrs. Whitmore. How dare you treat her like this? If anything happens to mother or child, I will make you repay it a hundred times over. I'll make sure you rot in prison.

"Call an ambulance. Now!"

The maids rushed to untie the rope from my body.

The moment the rope loosened, my abdomen suddenly relaxed.

Then even more blood ran down my legs. The tearing pain below was unbearable.

Claire rushed to my side and knelt by the bed, her voice shaking.

"Stella, I came too late. You suffered so much. Hold on. Please hold on."

I looked at her reddened eyes and wanted to lift my hand to wipe her tears.

But everything went black.

In a blur, I felt myself being gathered into a warm embrace that carried a faint, clean fragrance.

Claire's tearful voice pressed close to my ear.

"Stella, look at me. Don't sleep. I'm taking you to the hospital right now."

I wanted to answer her, but no sound came from my throat.

All I heard was a maid scream beside me.

"Blood! So much blood! The baby… I think I saw the baby's head move!"

Claire snapped her head up. With one bloodstained hand, she pointed at Mrs. Ward and roared.

"What are you waiting for? Call the ambulance! Now!"

In the VIP hospital room, Natalie Vale lay pale against the pillows.

Graham Whitmore cooled each spoonful of soup and fed it to her gently. His adoring gaze was almost overflowing. From time to time, he leaned close to her belly and listened for movement.

"Graham," Natalie said weakly, looking at him with wet eyes. "Thank you. If it weren't for you, I don't know what I would have done. I might have…"

"Don't say that." Graham quickly covered her lips with his hand.

"I will never let anything happen to you or the baby. You've already suffered enough."

"You're still as good to me as you were before." Natalie tightened her grip on his hand. Tears fell onto his skin.

"When the baby is born, you'll be his father. I only have you now."

She pressed her lips together, then suddenly turned red-eyed.

"But will Stella blame me? I really didn't mean any of this. If she blames me, I don't think I can keep living."

"Silly girl." Graham stroked her hair gently. "Focus on your pregnancy. You don't need to care about anything else."

A trace of satisfaction flashed through Natalie's eyes. Then she spoke timidly again.