I screamed as blood streamed down from the corner of my eye.
Clutching what had rolled out of the shattered case, I trembled violently, tears mixing with blood.
“Baby, I’m so sorry… Mommy failed to protect you…”
Hearing my scream, Ryan Hayes rushed back.
“Claire!”
He hurried to my side. I thought he would check on my injury,
but his eyes locked on the embryo in my arms, and anger filled his voice.
“Claire Summers! What are you doing! This is Zoey’s very first art piece — how could you destroy it? Do you know how hard she worked?”
For a moment, even the stabbing pain in my chest seemed to pause.
Yes, it was her “artwork.”
But that was my dead baby!
“Ethan Hayes! Have you forgotten? Have you forgotten how I nearly died from the miscarriage? How I bled out and was rushed into the ICU? Do you remember what you said back then?”
Back then, when the baby was gone, he had clutched me in his arms, crying, and told me:
“It’s okay, Claire. This baby just wasn’t meant for us. We’ll have another one.”
And now, all he cared about was a piece of art.
He was momentarily speechless.
I ignored him, struggling to stand on my own.
When he saw blood streaming from my eye, he finally tried to help me up.