Nigel left with Leona without a single glance back. His parents barged into the bedroom and carried out my wailing baby.
They didn't even call an ambulance.
They called it "reflection."
I lay on the floor and laughed. Tears slid from the corners of my eyes.
This was the man I'd loved for eight years. The man I'd defied my parents to marry.
Marrying far from home was a needle I'd swallowed willingly, and God, did it hurt going down.
"Lorraine, sweetie, we're at your complex..."
"Lorraine..."
My parents' voices came through the phone, but I no longer had the strength to answer.
Early the next morning, Nigel felt uneasy enough to head home and check.
The moment he stepped off the elevator, the front door was wide open.
He saw the dried bloodstains streaked across the floor, and the color drained from his face.
"Lorraine?"
"Lorraine!"
The living room was empty. The bedroom was empty. His brow knotted tight.
He pulled out his phone and dialed. The second the call connected, he exhaled.
"Babe, where are you?"
