He stopped and looked at her, his expression cold and unfeeling. “I don’t have time for this. Do you even get what it means if Renee’s hand scars? She’s a celebrity. Stop being so selfish.” 

He walked off with Renee, never looking back. 

Claire watched him go, despair crushing her. The pain spiked, tearing through her. 

She turned to people nearby. “Help me… someone, please help my baby—” 

A hot rush of liquid spilled down her legs, and the metallic tang of blood hit her nose. She looked down—bright red everywhere. 

“No…” Her voice cracked as tears streamed down her face, sheer terror clawing at her heart. 

Her baby. She couldn’t lose her baby. 

“Miss, are you okay? OMG, someone call 911!” A stranger spotted Claire in the pool of blood and grabbed their phone. 

By the time she was in the ambulance, the pain was unbearable, her vision swimming. Still, she held on, begging the paramedic. 

“Please save my baby. Save my baby. It’s only three months… please.” 

“Don’t worry, ma’am. We’ll do everything we can,” the paramedic reassured her, speaking gently, careful not to cause her more distress. “Do you want us to call someone for you?” 

When the call went through, it wasn’t Finley who picked up. 

“Hello? What is it?” Renee’s voice came through. 

“Who is this? I need to speak to Claire Carlson’s husband immediately. She’s hemorrhaging and on the way to the hospital—this is life and death!” 

Finley had already dropped Renee off at a hospital. His phone sat forgotten in her bag while he went to pay the bills. 

Renee sneered. “Claire’s so dramatic. She thinks pulling the baby card will bring Finley back? If I hadn’t left three years ago, I’d already be Mrs. Lloyd. He’s always loved me. What does she even have on me?” 

“Miss, I don’t care about your drama. Get her husband now—a baby’s life is on the line!” 

Claire, barely conscious, caught Renee’s voice from the loudspeaker. Her plea was weak, trembling. “Renee, I’m not competing with you. Please, tell Finley to come. I’m losing my baby…” 

“I don’t buy it. But fine—let’s see who matters more: me or your baby.” 

Claire kept begging, her voice cracking, but Renee turned to Finley. “It’s Claire. She says the baby’s in trouble and wants you to go back.” 

Finley didn’t hesitate. “Ignore her. She’s lying again. Your hand’s more important. The doctor will be here soon—don’t worry.” 

His words hit Claire like a death blow, tearing her heart apart. Her vision blurred with tears, and the world slipped away. 

The paramedic tried to speak, but Finley hung up. When he called back, the phone was off. 

“This is insane!” the paramedic muttered, gripping Claire’s hand. “Stay with me—we’ll do everything we can!” 

But the pain said it all. She knew her baby was gone. 

When Claire woke, the antiseptic stung her nose, burning her eyes. The sterile air felt suffocating. 

The doctor approached with a sympathetic look. “You’re still young. You’ll have other children.” 

Claire stared at the ceiling, her hand drifting to her now-flat stomach. Tears streamed silently. 

No one else would ever understand. The Lloyds had pressured her to get pregnant, overjoyed when she finally did. But now? The baby was gone. 

Their father killed them. 

She doubted the Lloyd family would care about her anymore.