Chapter 4

"Ethan’s train gets in in about an hour," Helen said, looking at her phone.

Richard sat in the corner of the room on a plastic chair. He hadn't moved an inch.

From the ambulance to the hospital, from the hallway to this room, he had been like a piece of luggage—placed in a corner, completely silent.

Helen whispered in his ear. The room was small, and every single word leaked into my ears.

"When Ethan gets here, we tell him she tripped. Hit her stomach on the coffee table. Keep your mouth shut."

"Yeah."

Richard’s first word.

Since yesterday, he had spoken exactly one word.

"And another thing—not a word about Jessica. She only came to help because I called her. It has nothing to do with anything else. Understood?"

"Yeah."

His second word.

Helen leaned back in her chair and began scrolling through her phone. After two minutes, she suddenly looked up at me.

"If you dare say anything stupid to Ethan later, you better think about the consequences."

"What consequences?"

"If word about your father-in-law gets out, how are the Carters supposed to survive in this city? How is Ethan supposed to hold his head up? He finally secured a good position at his firm—do you want him going to work with everyone knowing his father is a cheat?"

She placed her phone on her lap, crossing her hands like a boss waiting for a report.

"Just make sure you know what’s best for you."

I said nothing.

The adjacent bed remained empty, its sheets folded neatly. The entire floor was dead quiet, save for the occasional squeak of a nurse’s cart rolling past.

Around two in the afternoon, the door was pushed open.

Ethan stood at the entrance.

He was still wearing his navy travel jacket, his suitcase gripped tightly in his hand. His collar was half-crumpled, his hair a messy nest, and his face carried the sheer exhaustion of a rushed journey.

The moment his eyes landed on me, his eyes turned red.

He dropped his suitcase and rushed to my bedside in three quick strides. Kneeling down, he grabbed both of my hands in his.

"Chloe."

His hands were shaking violently.

"The baby..."

"Ethan," Helen stood up, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Don't panic. Listen to me first."

"Mom, let me talk to her first."

"Listen to me."

Helen’s grip was incredibly tight, her knuckles turning white.

"She wasn't careful when she was walking around the house yesterday. She tripped and hit her stomach against the corner of the coffee table. Your father and I called 911 immediately. We couldn't save the baby... but Chloe is going to be fine."

Ethan didn't turn back to look at his mother. He kept his eyes locked on mine, looking up from his knelt position.

"Chloe, how did you fall?"

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

Helen’s gaze was pinned to the side of my face like a dagger.

Richard cleared his throat from the corner.

"She tripped on her slippers. Your mother and I both saw it."

After saying that, he lowered his head again, as if he had just completed a chore he was forced to do.

Ethan looked at his father, then at his mother, and finally turned back to me.

"Chloe?"

"...Yeah."

I couldn't say it.

It wasn't that I didn't want to. It was because Helen was standing right behind him, her hand still gripping his shoulder, her chin tilted up slightly as she glared down at me.

Her eyes were filled with pure threat.

She took it for granted that I would cooperate. She took it for granted that I wouldn't dare speak up.

Ethan held my hand, his thumb gently rubbing the back of my palm.

"It’s okay, Chloe. As long as you’re safe. We can... we can have another baby in the future."

His voice cracked, and a tear escaped his eye, splashing onto the back of my hand.

Soft footsteps sounded at the door.

Jessica walked in holding a cup of warm water. Seeing Ethan, she paused.

"Ethan? You're back?"

Ethan turned around, surprised. "Jessica? Why are you here?"

"I rushed over the moment I heard about Chloe. Helen called me to help out since you guys don't have many relatives in the city."

She placed the cup on the nightstand and gave Ethan a reassuring smile.

It was a perfectly rehearsed, comforting smile.

"I brought the change of clothes and toiletries. Your parents have been at the hospital all night. They’re exhausted."

Ethan looked at the thermos and the neatly folded towels on the nightstand.

"Thank you, Jessica."

"Don't mention it. Chloe has always been so good to me. Of course I’d be here."

When she said "our Chloe," she gently patted my blanket.

Ethan didn't notice anything wrong.

How could he? All he saw was his wife’s best friend rushing to help, his parents staying up all night, and everyone gathering around to care for me.

"Ethan, you’ve been traveling for hours," Helen said, taking his suitcase and pushing it into the corner.

"Stay with Chloe for a bit. Your father and I are going downstairs to grab a bite. What do you want to eat?"

"Anything."

Helen tugged at Richard’s sleeve, and the two of them left the room.

Jessica followed them out, stopping at the door.

"Ethan, I’ll leave you two to talk. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be in the hallway."

The door clicked shut.

Only the two of us were left in the room.

Ethan pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down, holding my hands.

"Chloe, you've been through so much."

I looked into his eyes.

They were bloodshot and heavy.

"Ethan."

"Yeah?"

"When you go home... take a look at the living room."

He paused.

"What’s wrong with the living room?"

"Just go look. You’ll understand."

I had tried to say this yesterday, but the nurse had interrupted us.

He stared at my expression, his lips pressing into a tight line.

"Okay. I’ll go back tomorrow."

"Go today."

"Today? But Chloe, you..."

"Ethan, go back today. Look at the living room."

Helen’s voice suddenly cut in as she pushed the door back open. Her expression was tense.

"Look at what living room? There’s nothing to see. Ethan, don't listen to her. She’s still delirious from the anesthesia."

"I am perfectly sane."

I stared directly at Helen.

She held my gaze for three seconds.

Then, she smiled.

It was a mocking smile, the smile of someone who believed she had won.

"Chloe, sweetie, you must be running a fever. You tripped and fell. What is there to see at home? I already cleaned up the blood on the coffee table."

She walked over and patted Ethan's hand.

"Don't go back. I’ll have a cleaning service tidy up the place tomorrow. Just stay here and keep Chloe company."

She walked to the door, pausing with her back to us.

"Oh, by the way, Ethan. The home security camera seems to have disconnected. It hasn't been working since we changed the router last month. Fix it when you have time."

The door closed.

Ethan kept his head down, his thumb rubbing his knee.

After a long silence, he stood up.

"Chloe, I'm going home."

"Your mother said the camera is disconnected."

He picked up his jacket.

"I know. But the cloud storage auto-backs up. Disconnecting from the Wi-Fi doesn't delete the recorded footage."

He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

"Wait for me."

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