Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO KNEW GRACE WAS PREGNANT
By sunrise, I had stopped wondering where Grace went.
I started wondering who wanted our child dead.
Dr. Nathan Cole met me in a private examination room at six-thirty that morning.
He had treated Grace for nearly twelve years.
He looked exhausted.
“What exactly did you find?”
Nathan closed the door.
“Misoprostol metabolites.”
I stared at him.
“Explain it.”
“In certain circumstances, that medication can induce uterine contractions.”
“You're saying somebody gave it to my wife?”
“I'm saying Grace denied knowingly taking it.”
“Could she have lied?”
Nathan's face hardened.
“Your wife had just lost a child she desperately wanted. She was bleeding badly enough to require hospitalization, and she kept asking why it happened.”
Shame burned through me.
“Who knew she was pregnant?”
“Grace.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Anyone else?”
“She told me she hadn't told you yet.”
That hurt differently.
“Why?”
“She wanted to surprise you on your anniversary.”
The baby socks.
I looked away.
Nathan continued.
“She had struggled to conceive for years. She wanted to wait until another scan confirmed everything was progressing normally.”
I remembered those years.
Doctors.
Appointments.
Grace crying quietly in bathrooms while I pretended not to notice.
Eventually I became tired of disappointment.
Then I became tired of trying.
Then I found Vanessa.
“Did Grace suspect someone?”
Nathan hesitated.
“Yes.”
My head snapped up.
“Who?”
“She wouldn't tell me.”
“Why?”
“She said she needed proof.”
I left the hospital and called my head of security, Marcus Grant.
“Pull every camera recording from the week Grace miscarried.”
“From where?”
“Penthouse. Office. Drivers. Restaurants. Everywhere.”
By noon, Marcus had reconstructed Grace's final forty-eight hours before the hospitalization.
She went to her gynecologist.
Then my office.
Then lunch at the Hayes Grand Hotel.
At 1:17 p.m., she sat alone in the lobby café.
At 1:24, someone joined her.
Vanessa.
My stomach dropped.
I watched the footage in my office.
Grace looked calm.
Vanessa smiled.
A waiter delivered tea.
They spoke for fourteen minutes.
Then Vanessa stood and left.
Grace remained.
Five minutes later, she finished her drink.
Marcus paused the recording.
“You told me Vanessa didn't know Grace was pregnant.”
“She didn't.”
“Are you sure?”
I wasn't sure of anything anymore.
I called Vanessa.
She arrived twenty minutes later wearing cream trousers and a black coat.
She kissed my cheek.
I stepped away.
Her expression changed.
“What happened?”
I turned the monitor toward her.
“Why did you meet Grace?”
Vanessa froze.
Then recovered.
“She asked me to.”
“Why?”
“She knew about us.”
“That's not what I asked.”
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“She wanted me to leave you.”
“And?”
“I told her that wasn't her decision.”
I felt something ugly twist inside me.
“She was my wife.”
“And you were leaving her.”
“I never said that.”
Vanessa stared at me.
“You didn't have to.”
I hated how much truth lived inside that sentence.
“What did she tell you?”
“Nothing important.”
“Was she pregnant?”
Vanessa's eyes flickered.
Barely.
But I saw it.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“You knew.”
“Richard—”
I stepped closer.
“How?”
She looked away.
Then my office door opened.
Marcus entered carrying a clear evidence bag.
Inside was a silver pill container.
“Security found this in the trash room servicing the executive floor.”
Vanessa went pale.
Marcus continued.
“The pharmacy label was removed.”
I looked at Vanessa.
She stared at the container as if she'd seen a ghost.
Then she whispered something I barely heard.
“That shouldn't still exist.”
The room went silent.
I felt my blood turn cold.
“Still?”
May you like
Vanessa looked at me.
And in that second, I knew she had just made the first mistake of her life.
