Max's phone rang at that moment, and he answered immediately upon seeing the caller ID.
"Rebecca, you're awake?
"There's breakfast on the table for you. Make sure to eat well for the baby's sake."
As Max spoke, his cold demeanor softened, replaced by tenderness.
Even the assistant couldn't resist teasing.
"Wow, Max, you're really devoted to your wife! Preparing breakfast yourself!"
I stood there, stunned.
Just three years had passed, and Max and Rebecca now had a child together.
One was my former fiancé, the other my murderer.
It was all so absurd.
Max ended the call with a smile and turned his attention back to the bones.
He carefully picked up a tiny bone from along my spine with tweezers.
His stern face showed a trace of sadness as he concluded.
"She was pregnant at the time of her death, with the fetus around three months old.
"It looks like the fetus was… surgically removed before being buried in the concrete pillar with her."
Yes, that was our child.
I wanted to reach out and touch that tiny bone.
Unfortunately, my spirit couldn't make contact with it
I still remember the joy I felt three years ago when I found out I was pregnant.
In the blurry ultrasound, I saw the beating heart.