The next, I was sprawled at the bottom of the grand staircase, my flimsy nightgown barely protecting my skin from the cold I couldn’t even feel. I screamed, but it died in the vastness of our fucking house. Even if my voice could escape our house, there were no neighbors to hear. The fucking secluded mansion in the woods. It was a decision I had always hated, moving us into this mansion last year.
‘I love the privacy and it’s the space you’ve always wanted away from my family’ he had said.
Well, it cost us our baby.
A choked sob escaped me as my brain trapped me in the past.
One wrong step. That was the only explanation the cops could offer. They said the cameras in our mansion confirmed only that I’d fallen. They said the pressure I’d felt against my back, shoving me forward was all my imagination. I was stressed, they said–all my imagination.
But the fucking impact when I landed on the floor wasn’t a fantasy. The world dissolved into a white-hot spark of agony and crimson bloomed where white had been…the floor…my gown…my skin…red… I fucking hate that color so much. It stole everything from me!