Chapter 6

The doctor's words struck Evelyn like a lightning bolt. Her hands trembled as she clutched the edge of the examination table.

"Doctor, what if... I don’t want to keep it?"

She was on the verge of divorcing Dominic. A pregnancy now would only complicate everything.

The doctor studied her carefully before speaking. "Why not? Do you know how many women would give anything to be in your position?"

Evelyn bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the floor.

"Where’s the father?" the doctor pressed. "Even if you’re considering termination, he has a right to know."

Evelyn’s fingers curled into fists.

Noticing her discomfort, the doctor flipped through her chart. "You’re only twenty-one? Not married, then?"

"I—it doesn’t matter," Evelyn muttered. The divorce papers would be finalized soon anyway.

"Abortion isn’t a simple procedure. Even if you decide to go through with it, we can’t schedule it today." The doctor handed her the file. "Go home. Think it over. Whatever issues you have with the father, this child is innocent."

Evelyn’s stomach twisted.

"Given the bleeding, if we don’t act now, we might not be able to save it regardless," the doctor added.

Evelyn’s breath hitched. "What do we need to do?"

"Changed your mind?" The doctor arched a brow. "You’re young and healthy. This baby could be beautiful." She scribbled a prescription. "If you want to proceed, take these. Bed rest for a week, then follow up."

——

The afternoon sun was blinding as Evelyn stepped outside. Sweat clung to her back, her legs leaden.

She had nowhere to go. No one to confide in.

One thing was certain—Dominic could never find out.

If he did, he’d drag her to the operating table himself.

She hadn’t decided yet. Her mind was a storm of conflicting thoughts. She needed time.

Hailing a cab, she headed to her uncle’s house.

Since her parents’ divorce, her mother, Clara, had been staying with Ronald Thorne.

The Thorne residence wasn’t as lavish as the Blackwood estate, but it was comfortable enough.

"Aunt Miranda," Evelyn greeted as the door swung open.

Miranda’s smile vanished the moment she saw Evelyn’s empty hands.

"No gifts this time?" she sneered. "I heard you brought expensive presents to your father’s house last week. Guess we’re not worth the effort."

Evelyn stiffened. "I’m sorry. I’ll bring something next time."

"Next time?" Miranda scoffed. "From the looks of it, you’ve been kicked out of the Blackwood mansion. If Dominic cared, you wouldn’t be running back to Mommy, would you?"

Heat flooded Evelyn’s cheeks.

Clara stepped forward. "Even if she was, that’s no reason to mock her."

"Truth hurts, doesn’t it?" Miranda shot back. "Remember whose roof you’re under. Don’t like it? Leave."

Clara’s jaw tightened, but she said nothing.

Evelyn’s chest ached.

She’d thought her mother was comfortable here. She had no idea it was like this.

"Mom, let’s get you an apartment," Evelyn whispered. "I have some savings—"

Clara nodded. "Give me twenty minutes."

Half an hour later, they were in a cab, suitcases in tow.

"Don’t worry about me," Clara said softly. "I’ve saved enough. I only stayed for your grandmother’s sake."

Evelyn exhaled. "Aunt Miranda wasn’t wrong. The divorce will be final soon."

Clara squeezed her hand. "You’re young. You’ll rebuild your life."

Evelyn leaned against her mother’s shoulder. "After this, let’s live together."

She couldn’t tell her about the baby. Not yet.

——

That night, the Blackwood mansion was eerily silent.

Mrs. Wilkins appeared like a ghost, startling Evelyn.

"Dinner’s ready, Madam. I also picked up the supplies you requested."

"Thank you." Evelyn glanced around. "Is he not home?"

"Master Dominic left against medical advice," Mrs. Wilkins sighed. "Stubborn as always."

Evelyn nodded.

Dominic was ruthless. Arrogant. Unyielding.

Whatever sympathy she’d felt for him while he was unconscious had evaporated.

Sleep didn’t come easily.

The weight of her decision pressed down on her. By morning, she was no closer to an answer.

At 9:30 AM, Mrs. Wilkins knocked. "He’s gone. You can eat now."

Evelyn flushed. Had she been that obvious?

After breakfast, her phone rang.

A classmate offered a translation job—urgent, high-paying, due by noon.

Evelyn needed the money. She accepted.

By 11:30 AM, she’d finished. Just as she was about to send the file, her laptop crashed.

Her stomach dropped—until she remembered the backup on her USB.

"Mrs. Wilkins, is there another computer I can use? Mine just died."

"There’s Master Dominic’s."

Evelyn froze.

Using his computer? Unthinkable.

But the clock was ticking. 11:50 AM.

"If it’s quick, he won’t mind," Mrs. Wilkins urged.

Dominic’s study was off-limits. No one entered except the cleaners.

Evelyn hesitated.

She needed the money. For the abortion—if she chose it.

This child was half his. Using his computer was the least he could contribute.

Steeling herself, she turned it on.

The screen lit up instantly—no password.

Her pulse spiked.

Too easy.