Chapter 3

My father sent a voice note, his voice shaking with anger: "Our Jacqueline isn't that kind of person!"

Aunt Beatrice spoke up again: "Don't get worked up, uncle. Anthony's an honest, decent boy. He wouldn't accuse Jacqueline out of nowhere, would he?"

More voices piled in under her, agreeing.

Some took Anthony's side, some just wanted the show, and a small few tried to smooth things over.

Within minutes the chat was at 99+ unread.

Then Hester tagged me: "Don't forget, Jacqueline — the DNA test is in two weeks. Then we'll all find out whether my brother's wife really got wronged."

Someone spotted the flaw: "Going by the dates in the notebook, the number of weeks Jacqueline's been pregnant checks out fine."

Hester replied: "What would you know!"

She kicked that person out of the chat.

"On the day, I'll livestream the whole thing for everyone."

I couldn't help replying: "Hester, are you really that sure of yourself? Aren't you afraid of embarrassing yourself?"

"You're the one who'll be embarrassed, not me. It's all in my notebook. There's no way it's wrong."

Seeing how firm she was, a lot of people in the chat chose to believe her.

One after another, they stepped up to blame me and my parents.

Most of these people had, at one time or another, been helped out by my mom and dad.

I saw right through them. When they needed favors or loans from my parents, they couldn't grovel humbly enough.

Now, over rumors built on nothing, they'd found their chance to attack us.

The next day, after seeing my lawyer, I went straight to the hospital.

I'd booked the DNA test and the abortion for the same day.

The doctor asked me, "It wasn't easy for you to get pregnant. Are you sure you want to end it?"

I nodded firmly. Better than letting the child be born to a father like that, better to spare him the suffering of ever coming into the world.

I believe in genes. A child carrying Anthony's blood, I had no faith he would ever understand me.

I came out of the doctor's office and walked into the hospital lobby.

From a distance I saw Anthony, bent low over a woman on a bench, wearing a fawning smile.

That cringing, ingratiating look was one I'd never seen on him before.

For a moment I thought I'd mistaken him for someone else.

He was wearing the brown jacket I'd bought him last week, coming back from a business trip.

He had a few report slips in his hand and jogged over to the window.

Whatever they told him at the counter sent him hurrying back to the woman.

He half-knelt beside her, took the ID card she handed him, then trotted back to the window.

Back and forth, several times, and not once did his face show a trace of impatience. He kept that fawning look the whole way through.

He helped the woman to her feet, her handbag hooked over his own shoulder.

As they walked, he fussed over her, his voice so gentle: "Careful. Take it slow."

The scene cut straight into me.

I'd always thought of Anthony as a proud man. I'd even told my parents specially:

any help for Anthony couldn't be too direct, it would wound his pride.

So it turned out that behind my back, he'd been playing the dog for other people all along.

They came straight toward me, and I strode up to meet them.

Anthony saw me and froze for a moment. "What are you doing here?"

I looked at the woman. "Who is she?"

"Go home first. I'll explain when I get back."

I wouldn't leave. He snapped at me harshly, "Get out of here."

Then he turned instantly, putting his smile back on for the woman. "Ms. Lawrence, I'm sorry you had to see that."

The woman ran her eyes over me with a haughty look.

She smiled faintly. "Manager Dickerson, I'll wait for you in the car."

Once she was gone, Anthony yanked me off to the side.

"What are you making a scene for? You nearly cost me that deal."

"What kind of deal makes you willing to play the dog?"

"You—" Anthony forced his anger down and asked in a low voice, "Why are you at the hospital? What's wrong with you?"

His belated concern stirred nothing in me.

"Yesterday, in the chat, what your sister said. Did you see it?"

Anthony kept checking his watch. "Yeah. I saw it."

"She's not wrong, either. Do the DNA test, it's better for everyone. If you haven't wronged me, what are you afraid of?"

Fire surged up in my chest, and I lifted my hand and brought it down hard across Anthony's face.

"That's what you owe me and the baby."