The next day, Carter brought home a strange woman and told me that she was a psychologist named Melody Reyes.

I had undergone therapy for several years in the past, so I was familiar with the methods of psychologists.

I didn't reject her right away. After all, I was pregnant now, and medication wasn't an option.

But my situation now was very different from before. Back then, I had lost all hope for life. Now, it was the opposite I wanted to live.

Yet, it seemed like I couldn't control my body anymore.

Carter told me it was a psychological issue. But I didn't think it was that simple. I couldn't pinpoint what the problem was, but something was definitely wrong.

I glanced down at my swollen belly. According to my sense of time, I was barely over a month pregnant.

But when I checked my phone, I saw that my child was already more than three months along.

I had heard that by four months, you could feel the baby's movements. I placed my hand on my stomach, a soft smile spreading across my face. My babies, please grow strong.

Lately, I have been flipping through a dictionary, trying to find the perfect name for my children.

Carter suggested we use the name "Joy," as he had promised me our first child would carry that name. I understood that he wanted to make up for the loss I felt, but I couldn't help feeling it was unfair to him. That child was born in an accident with Luke and had also left the world too soon because of another tragedy.

Now, Carter and I were facing hardships together, and this was the only hope we had in both our past and present lives. How could I let our child carry the presence of another man's memory?noveldrama

There had to be a better name.

I had been looking through so many names, hoping to find the perfect one, wishing I could give them every beautiful, positive word in the world.

Melody came up beside me. "Mrs. Bolton, are you still thinking about names for the baby?"

"Mm," I nodded.

"You still have a few months. You can take your time."

I smiled at her. "As a mother, I naturally want the best for my child."

She was a gentle woman, completely different from any psychologist I had met before.

"Why do you look at me like that?" she asked.

I shook my head and explained, "I just feel your presence is so calm and peaceful. It's unlike any psychologist I've encountered before."

"Really? What were your past therapists like?"

"He is ..."

I was about to speak, but I froze. Even though I had spent years with this person, and we had seen each other only recently, I realized I had slowly forgotten what he looked like.

The moment I realized this, a chill ran through me.

I tried to recall his face, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't. All I could remember was that he always wore glasses and that he had a strong sense of cleanliness and compulsive tendencies.

"Mrs. Bolton, are you okay? What's happening?"

Melody handed me a tissue. Only then did I realize that my body was covered in sweat.

I looked at her, my face pale. "Is this really just a psychological problem?"

If it were just depression, why couldn't I even remember what Sergio looked like?

What else had I forgotten?

Would I one day forget Carter, too?

Had Carter been hiding something from me?

"Mrs. Bolton, you're in good health. You're just being affected by some things. Relax, and we can ...

Before she could finish, I suddenly swept the fruit platter off the table.

The fruit scattered across the floor

but I didn't care. My face was filled

with

me

anger as I stared at her. "Tell at exactly is happening to

me?"

"Mrs. Bolton, please calm down," she said, her face now showing panic. She tried to soothe my anger.

But I couldn't control my body. My

temper was on edge, and my r chaos. "No, you're all mind

was

I'm sick. I must be sicket

me. I'm sick. I must be sick

"Mrs. Bolton, come back inside. What are you doing?"

What was I doing?

I clearly hadn't done anything.

When I looked down, I realized I was standing on the balcony, my white skirt fluttering in the wind.

At that moment, my mind cleared up. The wind blew, and my sweat cooled, along with my heart.

I looked down at my bleeding hand, confused.

When had I gotten hurt?

And how had I ended up on the balcony?

The servants and the psychologist were watching me anxiously from a distance. Even downstairs, they

were ready to catch me if I fell.

Carter appeared in front of me,

drenched in sweat. He looked

terrified as he stared at me, his voice

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gentle, as if afraid to scare me.

"Chloe, please come down. You're going to scare me and the baby."

I looked at him, my eyes instantly filling with tears. "Carl, I don't want this. I don't know. I really don't know

what's happening."

Step by step, Carter came toward me and finally pulled me down into his arms. He held me tightly,

shaking with fear.

"Chloe, don't scare me."

Tears streamed down my face as I looked at him. "Tell me what's wrong with me? I know it's not depression! Don't lie to me."

He gently stroked my cheek, sighing helplessly. "Chloe, you've been poisoned."

The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!