I screamed—a raw, animal sound that scraped my throat raw. I curled into a fetal ball, instinctively protecting my womb, protecting the memory of the birth.

But she wasn’t done.

She reached out and grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head back against the pillow, forcing me to look into her manic eyes. Her breath smelled of mints and venom.

“My son is leaving you for a woman who knows how to breed!” she spat, her saliva hitting my cheek. “Tiffany is already pregnant. With a boy. A real Sterling.”

The revelation hit me harder than the purse. Richard wasn’t just disappointed; he had already replaced me. The “late nights” at the office, the distance, the coldness—it all snapped into focus.

“He… he cheated?” I gasped, tears blurring my vision.