Mabel looked me up and down, savoring my ashen face, then placed the second report directly into my hands. She lowered her gaze and stroked her stomach.
"I'm three months pregnant. It's Guy's."
In that moment, it felt like someone was slowly siphoning every last molecule of air from my lungs.
Three months ago was when my daughter's checkup results had come back wrong. The doctor said it was minor, but she'd need surgery to fix it completely.
That night, I'd cried in Guy's arms. I hadn't seen the flash of satisfaction in his eyes.
"Leave everything to me."
His touch had been so gentle when he comforted me that night.
Now I understood. His "everything" had never included me or my child.
Mabel's warm, venomous breath against my ear dragged me back. She leaned in close, whispering with quiet triumph.
"All I did was mention to Guy that my heart wasn't in great shape, and he arranged the compatibility testing immediately. Your daughter was lucky, really, being a match for me. And the transplant consent? Signed by your own hand."
Each word was a blade, stabbing into the place that hurt most.
"Oh, and there's nothing in that casket, by the way. Your daughter's probably still on the operating table, making herself useful. Hearts aren't the only organs worth good money."
My body shook. The last thread holding my mind together snapped.
What did she just say?
A dull thud.
I raised my hand to slap her across the face, but the sound of something heavy hitting the ground stopped me.
I whipped around. My mother's face was white as chalk, crumpled on the floor.
"Mom!"
Nothing else mattered. I threw myself to her side, fumbling for my phone with trembling hands, and called an ambulance.
I barely remember how I got to the hospital. I watched my unconscious mother disappear through the operating room doors, and I felt as though I were sinking into an endless darkness.
The man I loved had betrayed me and murdered my daughter.
Tears blurred my vision, but I knew I couldn't sit here and do nothing any longer.
Seven days. In seven days, they would pay for every last thing they'd done.
Several hours later, my mother was wheeled into the ICU.
"Ma'am, the surgery was a success, but your mother hasn't regained consciousness yet. She'll need to stay in the ICU for observation for a week."