"Do you really have no clue why your baby didn't survive?" Everett's words sliced through the silence, sharp and unyielding.

Margot froze, disbelief etched on her face. "What are you saying? My baby came early because Selena pushed me... It's her fault my baby didn't make it! Are you seriously trying to defend her?" Her voice shook with anger as she laid blame on Selena, her frustration palpable.

Everett, seemingly uninterested in prolonging the argument, gestured towards the door. A doctor who had been waiting outside stepped in, handed Everett a document respectfully, and then exited quietly.

Holding the paper, Everett's voice was steady and clear. "This report details every prenatal check-up you've had. Your pregnancy was always precarious, yet you ignored medical advice. There were numerous warnings about potential miscarriage, which you chose to hide with your doctor's help. Did you really think you could keep the truth buried forever?"

The document landed on the bed with a thud, right at Margot's feet.

"Sure, that push might've been a factor, but as the mother, you're at least eighty percent responsible for this tragedy!"

Margot's face turned ashen.

The loss of her child was a chapter she thought was closed. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine Everett had gone behind her back to investigate. Was he really siding with Selena all along, even while staying by her side?

"And you don't even seem that heartbroken over it!" Everett's accusation cut through the air again.

Margot's mind was in turmoil, but she managed to snap back, "How can you say that? I've been in the depths of depression-doesn't that count as grief?"

Everett chuckled, a humorless sound. "Depressed?"

Initially, he had no reason to doubt

her. She had seemed genuinely distraught, drowning in sorrow. But seeing Selena's raw,

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heart-wrenching reaction to losing a child, a grief so profound it was as if the sky had fallen, made him question everything. That was real grief.

So, he asked the doctors to take another look at Margot's medical history from the past few months, to see if there were any inconsistencies.

The findings were shocking.

Margot's condition hadn't fluctuated due to poor medical care; she hadn't been taking her medication at all She'd hold the pills in her mouth, only to discreetly spit them out and flush them away when no one was watching.

In other words, her so-called depression might've been nothing but an act.

Her condition stayed stagnant because she manipulated her symptoms, conveniently "falling ill" whenever Everett had plans, forcing him to stay close.

With a steely gaze, Everett laid bare Margot's deceit, "What excuse do you have now? Or have you really lost it, needing a trip to the psych ward?"

Confronted with undeniable proof, Margot couldn't deny the truth.

She was terrified of losing everything, especially being sent to a mental institution, which would mean complete ruin.

In desperation, Margot slid off the bed, her body weak from neglect, and crumpled to the floor.

Crawling to Everett, she clutched his hand, her voice filled with desperation, "Everett, I just didn't want to lose you. I love you. Is that so wrong?"

Tears streamed down her cheeks,

and with a flicker of hope, she

looked up at him, "Since you're here, knowing everything, doesn't that mean you still care?" This belongs to .