Chapter 4
Noelle’s POV
I dragged myself out of the bathroom, limbs trembling as I clawed across the frigid tiles, smearing blood behind me. My throat was scorched from screaming, yet I still cried out.
“Please… someone–help…”
My vision warped, the hallway spinning into a blur while searing pain clawed through my abdomen. Hot. Sticky. Endless.
Footsteps pounded closer.
“Oh God–get a stretcher now! She’s bleeding out!”
A nurse dropped beside me, applying intense
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pressure to my stomach. My body spasmed in agony.
“Stay with me! Noelle, can you hear me?” she pleaded.
I couldn’t.
Darkness engulfed me.
Voices echoed through the void.
“She’s hemorrhaging-”
“We can’t wait!”
“She won’t survive unless we operate immediately!”
“Get the OR ready. Now!”
A hand gripped mine.
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“Hold on, sweetheart. Just hold on.”
And then–nothing.
Blinding white light seared my eyes when I came to, the beep of machines surrounding me. My limbs were leaden. My lips cracked. I tried to rise, but a gentle hand restrained me.
A nurse.
She looked at me as though I might shatter again if she spoke too loudly.
“Hi, Noelle,” she murmured. “You’re safe now.“”
I stared blankly.
“You were bleeding severely,” she said gently. “The doctors had to remove the baby to save your life.”
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My breath caught. But I didn’t cry.
I simply stared up at the ceiling.
I had intended to terminate the pregnancy… but not like this.
Not torn from me–by them. By Christopher and Jocelyn, once again.
The nurse reached for my hand. “Would you like me to call someone?”
I shook my head. “No one to call.”
The next morning, I was discharged–still aching from surgery, but upright.
The sterile hospital air clung to my clothes like the memory of pain. I hailed a cab, holding my discharge documents as if they
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might unravel.
At the gate, the house looked unfamiliar- looming and cold.
I bent to collect the mail and spotted a letter with my name elegantly scrawled.
Inside: the divorce agreement.
I smiled. One step closer.
Inside, no one looked up. Not Christopher. Not Jocelyn. Just the soft hum of the TV.
“I thought you ran away,” Christopher sneered, not even sparing me a glance.
“I live here,” I said, voice cool.
He stood. “You attacked Jocelyn in the restroom. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”
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“I know exactly what happened.”
“Then apologize.”
I scoffed.
Jocelyn appeared then, eyes full of rehearsed compassion.
“Christopher, don’t push her. It was my fault. I provoked her. I’m sorry, Noelle.”
She offered a gift bag.
“We’re going to the company party tonight. I brought a dress. Maybe you’d like to come?”
My father snorted. “She’ll ruin the mood. She’s useless.”
But Jocelyn’s syrupy tone coaxed him.
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“Please, papa. Let her have some fun.”
They agreed–because Jocelyn wanted it.
Later, I passed Christopher’s study and stopped at the door, voices drifting through.
“I’m tired of hiding us from her,” Jocelyn sighed.
I rolled my eyes–but Christopher’s reply rooted me in place.
“That worthless woman wouldn’t die. Even after we sent the stalker, she survived!”
My blood froze. My grip on the railing tightened until my knuckles blanched.
They’d tried to kill me.
“I thought she’d bleed out on that hospital
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floor,” Jocelyn snapped. “She’s like a cockroach.”
“I’ve got a new plan,” Christopher said coldly. “Tonight I’ll get her drunk, set her up with some guy, record it, release it. Then I’ll divorce her and go public with us.”
Jocelyn laughed. “Perfect. No one believes a disgraced woman.”
I backed away, heart hammering.
In my room, I pulled out the envelope.
Inside were the divorce papers–already signed.
I went downstairs, face blank.
“The hospital needs a signature,” I said.
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Christopher didn’t read it. “Why do they need mine?”
“You’re listed as my next of kin,” I lied.
He laughed, signing it without care. My father scoffed beside him.
“Next of kin? What a joke.”
“Take my name off it. I’m not that pathetic,” Christopher added.
I nodded. “Thanks.”
Back in my room, I pulled out three packed boxes–everything I needed.
I texted one person.
I’m ready. Tonight’s the night.
