Chapter 4

The peace shattered a month later.

Mia showed up at the door — five months pregnant, belly and all.

It was a quiet afternoon. Diane was in the garden, trimming the flowers. Richard was in his study, working through paperwork.

The doorbell rang. I answered it. Mia stood on the doorstep in head-to-toe Chanel couture, sunglasses on, a Hermès Birkin dangling from her wrist. She looked like she owned the place.

"Where's Richard? Tell him to get his ass out here!" She shoved past me and clicked her heels straight into the house, her sharp voice slicing through the quiet of the old estate.

"Are you out of your mind?!" I grabbed her arm and hissed, "My mom is inside! Don't set her off — if something happens to her, that's on you!"

"Set her off? Please. She's been playing dead for a month — not showing her face, not picking up calls, not responding to a single message. Does Richard think I'm just going to disappear?" Mia yanked her arm free and screamed, "I'm carrying the Vance family's firstborn!"

The study door flew open. Richard came charging out. The moment he saw Mia, the color drained from his face. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"Mia! What are you doing here?! Get out — now!" He rushed toward her and clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to drag her back toward the door.

"You dare cover my mouth?! Richard, let's get one thing straight — I'm carrying your son! Your wife couldn't give you one, and now you're crawling back to play the devoted husband?!" Mia thrashed wildly against him. Her long nails raked across his cheek, leaving three deep red lines.

Crack.

The sound of a slap rang through the living room.

Richard's palm connected hard with Mia's face. She stumbled backward and crashed onto the sofa.

"I told you to get out! Do you not understand English?!" His eyes were bloodshot, his voice a roar, one finger pointing at the door like a man unraveling.

The room went dead silent. The only sound was Mia's stunned, broken sobbing as she pressed a hand to her cheek.

Then the glass door leading to the garden slid open.

Diane stepped inside, a pair of garden shears in her hand. She stood perfectly still.

She was wearing the white dress — the one Richard had loved most on her, ten years ago. Sunlight fell across her shoulders, but it couldn't touch the cold that lived behind her eyes.

"Richard," she said. Her voice was soft. Flat. Not a single note of emotion. "Who is this woman?"

Richard's whole body seized. He dropped to his knees in front of her. Cold sweat soaked through his shirt and ran down his face in streams.

"Diane… just let me explain… she's… she's nobody, she was just at the door trying to sell something—" His voice cracked and stumbled over itself. He stared up at Diane in pure terror, convinced that at any second she would collapse — that a blood vessel would burst, that she would die right there in front of him.

Mia lowered her hand from her cheek. And then she laughed. A sharp, ugly laugh that shook her whole body, tears streaming down her face.

"Selling something? Really, Richard? That's the best you've got?" She turned to Diane, her voice dripping with venom. "You lost your memory, right? You think it's still ten years ago? Fine — let me fill you in. The baby in my stomach? It's your husband's. Every time he was in bed with you, he was thinking about me."

She wanted to tear Diane's world apart. Piece by piece. With the truth.

I lunged forward to cover Mia's mouth, my heart hammering in my throat. I was terrified — terrified my mom couldn't take this, terrified she'd have an episode right here on the spot.

But the breakdown she'd expected never came.

Diane didn't scream. She didn't faint. She didn't shed a single tear.

She walked slowly toward the couch and stood over Mia, her gaze dropping to the slight curve of Mia's belly. Then she turned and looked at Richard, still on his knees on the floor.

The corner of her mouth curled into a slow, twisted smile — cold, mocking, and utterly unsettling.

"Five months along." Diane's voice was unnervingly calm, almost amused, like she was watching a show. "Richard, that must have been exhausting to hide."

Richard froze.

He stared at her like he was looking at a stranger.

"Diane… you… you didn't lose your memory?" His voice came out like a broken wheeze, raw with fear.