Audrey's POV
Simon's voice was a blur beside me. He kept talking — about Adel, about how he'd make her pay — but all I could think about was how tired I felt. My head was spinning, my palms slick against the leather seat.
It was warm in the car, maybe too warm. My dress clung to my skin, damp. Probably just sweat, I told myself. My body had been strange lately — dizzy spells, strange cramps. The doctor said it was normal.
Still, something in me… felt wrong.
"Simon," I murmured faintly, "can you drive faster?"
He looked over, concern flashing across his face. "We're almost home. Just breathe, alright? You're safe now."
Safe.
The word echoed in my head, but when the car finally slowed at the gates of the Anderson mansion, that false sense of calm shattered.
As soon as I stepped out, I felt a trickle down my leg — warm, heavy, wet. My heel slipped against the gravel. For a moment, I thought it was still sweat… until Simon's sharp gasp broke through the night.
"Audrey—what—where are you hurt? You're bleeding—oh God, you're covered in blood!"
I froze. His words didn't make sense at first. Then I looked down.
My hands trembled as I touched my thighs, and when I pulled them away, they were red.
"No…" My voice broke, weak and breathless. "No, no, no, no…"
The world tilted. My heart pounded in my ears. Tears burned my eyes as panic took over. "MOM!" I screamed, my voice cracking, raw. "MOMMMM!"
Simon tried to catch me as I stumbled forward, his hands hovering uselessly, terrified to touch me. I could see the horror on his face — the same horror clawing at my own chest.
Then — footsteps. My mother's voice. "Audrey! Audrey, what happened?"
She was running toward me, her gown fluttering in the light, her face pale with fear. I wanted to reach for her, to tell her it would be okay, but my knees gave out before I could.
Everything blurred — the gate lights, Simon's shout, my mother's scream. The world turned soft and dark as the sound of my name echoed one last time before everything went still.
The world felt heavy before it even came into focus.
A soft beeping echoed somewhere near my head, steady and cruelly calm. The smell of antiseptic filled my nose, sharp and sterile. For a moment, I couldn't tell if I was awake or trapped in a bad dream.
Then—warmth. Someone holding my hand. I turned my head slowly, my neck stiff. My mother sat beside me, her eyes red and tired. My father was on the other side, staring blankly at the floor, his jaw clenched. At the window stood my brother—silent, shoulders tight, pretending to be strong for everyone else.
And then… Eden.
My little sister. My sunshine.
Her eyes were already spilling tears before I even saw her clearly. "I'm so sorry, sister," she whispered, voice breaking as she threw her arms around me. "I'm so, so sorry."
Her body shook against mine, and for a second I thought maybe this was just a nightmare—because no one should ever cry like that.
My mother's hand smoothed my hair back gently, trembling. Her voice was barely there when she said, "My princess… You lost the baby."
Everything stopped.
I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I just turned my face to the other side, staring at the blank hospital wall as my heart turned to ice.
"It's fine," I whispered, forcing the words through the lump in my throat. "I wasn't ready anyway. Maybe… maybe it's fate."
I smiled—or tried to. But my mother's eyes told me she didn't believe me. None of them did. They knew me too well.
"Get some rest, baby," my mother murmured, standing. "We'll be right outside." She touched my forehead softly before pulling my father, brother, and Eden out of the room.
When the door clicked shut, the silence felt louder than anything I'd ever heard.
I turned my face to the ceiling, my hand trembling as it drifted down to my belly. My fingers brushed the empty curve that once held a heartbeat… now gone.
And that was when it hit me.
The ache. The loss. The weight of it all.
I bit down hard on my lip to keep from screaming, but a sound still escaped—a raw, broken sob that shattered whatever strength I had left.
I buried my face in the pillow, letting the tears soak through the fabric. Because for the first time, there was no pretending, no pretending to be fine, no hiding behind the name Shepherd Anderson.
I was just Audrey.
And I was empty.