Hailee’s POV
One month later.
The nights had only grown heavier. I tried to rest, but sleep never ca easy. When I closed my eyes, all I heard were their voices, their anger, and their pain. Nathan’s last words—I hate you—still burned through like a fire I couldn’t put out.
I told myself I did the right thing, that this was the only way to protect them. But the weight of it suffocates every day, until even standing felt like a battle.
I had grown tired. My body ached, my steps dragged, and no matter how much I forced myself to eat, the food sat heavy and strange in my stomach. So mornings I barely made it out of bed.
The door creaked open, and Mother walked in. Her eyes swept over where I sat slumped on the edge of my bed, my hair unbrushed, my skin pale.
"Hailee," she said softly, but there was worry in her voice. She stepped closer, studying with sharp eyes. "You don’t look well."
I forced a small smile. "I’m fine."
Her brows furrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. She reached out and touched my forehead, then my wrist, her cool fingers lingering against my pulse. "No," she murmured. "You’re not fine. Sothing’s wrong."
I looked away, my throat tightening. "I’m just tired, Mother. That’s all."
But she didn’t believe . I could feel it in the way her hand stayed on my arm, her gaze steady, searching.
"Hailee," she said again, her tone lower now, heavier. "Tell the truth. When was your last monthly flow?"
The air froze around . My stomach dropped. My lips parted, but no sound ca out.
Mother’s eyes widened slightly, as though she had already guessed the answer before I could speak. "Hailee," she pressed, her voice firm and panicked now, "answer . Have you seen your flow this month?"
I swallowed hard, shaking my head quickly. "I... I don’t rember. Maybe I just missed it. It happens sotis."
Her hand tightened around my arm. "No. Not like this." She knelt down in front of , her face level with mine, her eyes sharp and searching. "Your body looks pale, your eyes heavy, and you’re sick every morning. Don’t lie to . You know what this ans."
Tears stung my eyes. I shook my head again, refusing to hear it, refusing to believe it. "No. It’s just stress. That’s all. I’ve been through too much. It’s nothing more than that."
But Mother’s gaze never wavered. Her voice dropped lower, steady and unshakable. "Hailee... you are with child."
The words hit like a strike to the chest. My throat closed, my breath caught, and my whole body went cold.
"No..." I whispered, but even as I said it, I knew she was right. Every sign, every ache, every sickness—it all pointed to one truth I couldn’t run from.
Mother’s face softened, sorrow flickering in her eyes, but she didn’t look away. "You know it. You feel it. There is life inside you."
A sob tore out of as I pressed my hands against my stomach, trembling. "But I don’t know whose it is."
Her brows drew together, her lips parting as realization dawned. She didn’t need to say more. She already knew. And instead of yelling at she pulled into her arms for a hug.
Mother’s arms held tight, but her silence spoke louder than her tears. When she finally pulled back, her eyes locked on mine. There was no anger in them. Only a knowing weight, as if she had pieced everything together long before I admitted it.
"You don’t need to say more," she whispered. Her voice was low, steady, but it cut straight through . "I know, Hailee."
My breath hitched. "You... you know what?"
Her eyes glistened, but her shoulders stayed square. "That night. You were with Nathan. And Callum. And Dane. All of them."
My heart stopped. The truth I hadn’t wanted to say aloud hung heavy in the space between us. Sha burned my cheeks, but I couldn’t speak, couldn’t deny it.
Mother’s lips trembled, but she didn’t look away. "I saw it in your eyes the day you left them behind. I knew sothing had happened, sothing that bound you to each of them in ways you could not untangle. And now..." She lowered her gaze to my stomach. "Now the proof is here."
I shook my head helplessly, fresh tears spilling. "Then what do I do? How do I live with this? I don’t even know whose child—"
Mother’s hand pressed down firmly on my shoulder, silencing . Her eyes were sharp now, not with anger but with determination. "You don’t have to decide everything today. But this... this cannot stay hidden for long. I must speak to soone I trust—my friend. She will know what must be done."
Fear clawed at my chest. "Your friend?" My voice cracked. "Mother... if Aunt Magnificent finds out, will she even let stay here? What if she sends away—now that I’m... like this?"
Mother’s lips pressed together, her eyes softening with sorrow. She brushed a strand of hair from my face, her fingers trembling. "Do not fear her yet. Let speak first. Perhaps she will see the child not as a sha, but as a reason to protect you."
But her words didn’t ease the worry inside . As she rose to her feet, her skirts swishing softly against the floor, dread twisted through . My hands clutched my stomach without thinking, as if I could shield it from the world.
Mother walked to the door, her back straight, her steps certain even though her eyes glistened with tears. She pulled the door open, pausing only once to look back at . "Stay here. Rest. I will return soon."
And then she left, the sound of the door closing echoing like a final drumbeat in my chest.
But before I could take a steadying breath, the door creaked open again.
Frederick stood there.
His tall figure filled the doorway, his gaze calm, unreadable as always. The golden lamplight caught the sharp planes of his face, his eyes dark and steady as they landed on .
For a long mont, he said nothing. Only watched —watched the tears on my cheeks, the way my hands pressed protectively over my stomach.
My breath caught, my heart pounding. Did he know?
"Hailee," he said at last, his voice quiet, carrying no judgnt. Just that calm, steady weight that always unsettled . "What troubles you?"
For a mont, I couldn’t breathe. His eyes were too steady, too calm, as if he was waiting for to open the door inside myself. My lips trembled, but the silence between us pressed so heavily that it hurt more than speaking.
"I..." My voice cracked. I lowered my gaze, staring at my trembling hands. "I’m pregnant." I said truthfully. There was no need to lie... he will find out one way or the other.
Frederick didn’t move, didn’t gasp, didn’t even blink. He only stood there, his calm eyes fixed on , as if he had already known.
Tears welled in my eyes, and I choked out, "And I don’t know whose it is."
Still he said nothing, and that silence tore open further. My voice grew louder, shaky. "I was with Nathan. And Callum. And Dane. That night, before everything—before I left. I don’t know which of them... which of them is the father."
Sha burned through , flooding my face hot with tears. I covered my mouth with one hand, as though I could take the confession back, bury it where no one would ever hear. But it was too late.
Frederick finally stepped forward, slow and unhurried, and lowered himself to sit on the chair across from . His eyes never wavered.
"Why don’t you tell them the truth," he said softly. "They could do a paternity test."
I shook my head helplessly, my tears spilling faster. "They already hate . I told them I was married, that I belonged to soone else. I lied because I thought it would protect them. But now... now if they ever found out about this..." My words broke, strangled in my throat. "They would never look at the sa again."
The sha in my chest swelled until I thought it would crush . But Frederick stood up from where he sat beside and lowered himself to my level. His eyes stayed calm, steady, as if nothing I said could shake him.
"Then let people think it is mine," he said quietly.
My breath hitched. "What?"
His hand brushed the back of the chair, his expression unreadable but his words sharp, final. "I will carry this burden with you, Hailee. If anyone asks... this child is mine. I am the father. I am responsible. That way, Hailee, you will be safe. No one will question you; no one will dare speak against you. And most importantly, your child will have a father. What do you say?"
Reviews
All reviews (0)