Chapter 3

The day after I was transferred to a six-bed ward, Victoria arrived with the family financial supervision agreement.

She deliberately pulled back the privacy curtain.

“Two days in the hospital and you’ve already spent more than two thousand dollars. What are people supposed to think?”

Patients in the neighboring beds turned to look.

Whispers spread through the room.

I opened the document.

The supervision period would last until the child turned three. All my income would be deposited into the family account.

Any expense over thirty dollars required approval.

Anything over eight hundred dollars had to be jointly reviewed by Arthur and Emily.

“Why the hell does Emily get to approve my money?”

“She’s the Sterling family’s financial consultant and the head of the ThermoBaby project.”

“She doesn’t have any qualifications.”

“Arthur trusts her. That’s qualification enough.”

I closed the document.

“I’m not signing it.”

Victoria’s face hardened.

“Don’t forget who paid your father’s debts.”

“It wasn’t Arthur.”

Before the wedding, I had sold the operating rights and equipment from my mother’s studio and paid off every cent.

Sterling Group later acquired the remaining business entity.

Arthur told everyone his family had cleaned up my mess.

I had assumed he was protecting my dignity, so I never corrected him.

“Without the Sterlings, where do you think the daughter of a bankrupt debtor would be today?”

The whispers around us grew louder.

I pushed the papers back at her.

“Get out. I don’t want to see either of you.”

Victoria shoved a pen toward me.

“You’re attending the launch Friday. Emily is too frail to handle the entire event.”

“Why should I? She gets a fifty-five-thousand-dollar VIP suite for a stomachache, while I’m trying to save my pregnancy in a six-bed ward, and now I’m supposed to cover for her?”

“It’s Arthur’s money. He can spend it on whoever he wants.”

“The account contains my project earnings too. Give me my money back.”

Victoria paused.

“You married into the Sterling family. There is no yours and mine anymore.”

And suddenly, I understood.

They weren’t afraid I would spend recklessly.

They wanted me to forget that some of that money had always been mine.

When the doctor came by for rounds, Victoria took the laptop from my bedside table.

“Arthur says you’re emotionally unstable. You’re not allowed to access company information for now.”

I tried to grab it.

A violent cramp tore through my abdomen.

The doctor forced me back onto the bed.

Victoria hugged the laptop to her chest and sneered.

“Using the baby to scare everyone again. You really are just like your father.”

After examining me, the doctor warned, “If you have another significant bleeding episode, we may not be able to maintain the pregnancy.”

I borrowed a nurse’s phone and called Ruth Coleman, my mother’s former assistant.

I asked her to search the old studio for the patent records.

Ruth went silent.

“The old building was demolished last month. Arthur signed off on it. The looms and manuscripts were cleared out, and I couldn’t find the blue document box.”

“What about my mother’s loom?”

“Ms. Hart took it for the launch display.”

My fingers tightened around the phone.

“Keep looking. The project partnership agreement is in that blue box.”

That loom was the only thing my mother had left me.

She had woven the first sample of the temperature-regulating fabric on it, straightening every thread with fingers stained blue from dye.

I called Arthur.

“Give me my mother’s loom back. Now.”

“After the launch. Your mother’s studio was absorbed into Sterling Group. The equipment belongs to the company.”

“The loom and fabric samples were mine before we married. I never authorized you to take them.”

Emily’s voice came from beside him.

“Claire, I only made a few little modifications.”

A photo appeared on my phone.

The old loom had been painted white.

My mother’s name had been sanded off the beam.

The blue sample fabric had been cut into dozens of square coasters to give away to guests at the launch.

“Who gave you permission to cut it? You had no right!”

“The old fabric smelled musty. I was just repurposing something useless.”

“Keep whatever’s left intact. I’m coming to get it.”

Arthur cut me off.

“In your condition, you’re not leaving the hospital.”

“Then bring it back yourself.”

“Claire, stop acting like a piece of old fabric matters more than our baby.”

My fingers went cold.

“That was the last sample my mother left me.”

“If she were still alive, she wouldn’t want you risking the baby over a keepsake.”

He said it so easily.

As though approving my spending wasn’t enough.

Now he could speak for the dead too.

Suddenly, a nurse shouted for the doctor.

Warm blood ran down my thigh and soaked the sheets.

The phone slipped from my hand.

Through the chaos, I could still hear Arthur asking, “Why aren’t you answering me?”

The doctor rushed over and pulled the curtain shut.

Just before the call disconnected, I heard Emily laugh softly.

“Don’t worry. Whenever she doesn’t want to face a problem, she likes pretending she can’t hear you.”