Chapter 3

The phone was answered after only three rings.

"Ray, what you told me before you went abroad... does it still stand?"

There were two seconds of silence on the other end.

"It stands. It always will."

I hung up, started the car, and drove back to the villa to pack.

Two suitcases. Ten years of marriage couldn't even fill them.

I had just reached the top of the stairs with my suitcase when Rachel appeared, having come in at some point, and stood at the far end of the hallway watching me.

"Mavis, are you moving out?"

I ignored her and dragged my suitcase down the stairs.

She followed and grabbed my sleeve.

"Mavis, it's my fault, it's Rodney's fault, you didn't do anything wrong, please don't go."

I shook her hand off.

She took a step back, her foot catching the edge of the stairs, and suddenly tipped backward.

The motion was so smooth.

So smooth that I didn't even have a chance to reach for her.

She tumbled down the stairs, her skirt flaring open, blood spreading out beneath her.

That was when the door opened.

Rodney stood in the entryway, his car keys dropping to the floor.

He glanced at Rachel lying at the bottom of the stairs, then looked up at me standing at the top.

A slap landed across my face.

I crashed to the floor, the back of my head hitting the porcelain flowerpot beside me, my ears ringing.

"If anything happens to Rachel or the baby, I'll take your life."

He crouched down and gathered Rachel up, cradling her carefully, like something that might break.

I braced myself on the coffee table to stand, but he kicked me in the shoulder and I fell back down.

I coughed up a mouthful of blood and spat it onto the floor.

The ambulance came quickly.

Rachel was wheeled into the emergency room while Rodney paced back and forth outside the door.

Before long, the doctor pushed the door open, his expression grave.

"The patient urgently needs a transfusion, but the blood bank doesn't have enough matching blood on hand."

Rodney turned his head and stared at me, leaving no room for discussion.

"Take hers. They have the same blood type."

"No... I have Mediterranean anemia, and I had a miscarriage only two months ago!"

I shook my head frantically, my voice trembling uncontrollably.

"If they draw that much blood, I'll die..."

He only sneered, his eyes full of malice.

"That's what you owe her."

Two bodyguards pinned me down into the blood-draw chair.

As the needle went in, I looked down and saw the bruises on my arm that still hadn't faded.

Blood was drawn out of me, tube after tube.

The lights on the ceiling grew farther and farther away, dimmer and dimmer.

I don't know how long I was unconscious.

When I woke, the only sound in the room was the beeping of the machines.

I turned my head and saw Rachel sitting in the chair beside me, her hand on her belly.

She smiled.

"Mavis, thank you for the blood."

She lowered her voice and leaned in close.

"The truth is, I never bled heavily at all. Before that fall down the stairs, I'd hidden a blood bag in my skirt."

She tilted her head and looked at me, her gaze almost greedily tracing my features, a strange smile at the corner of her lips.

"Mavis, thank you for pulling me out of the mud back then. You're so good, almost perfect. A good heart, good looks, a good family. You have a bright life ahead of you. I envy you so much, Mavis.

"I envy you so much I want to steal your life away.

"But why do you only ever have eyes for Rodney? Look, all it took was a few blood bags and a careless little fall down the stairs, and he came rushing to bite you like a rabid dog, without even bothering to check the facts.

"Mavis, how could you love a man that stupid for ten years? How could you be so blind?"

Footsteps sounded outside the door.

Rachel's expression changed, as fast as a card flipping over.

She snatched the glass from my bedside table and smashed it on the floor, picked up the biggest shard, and dragged it across her own arm.

As the beads of blood welled up, she screamed and fell to the floor.

"Mavis, no! Don't kill my baby!"

Rodney rushed in.

He saw the glass everywhere, the blood on Rachel's arm, and me lying on the bed.

He seized me by the neck and dragged me off the hospital bed.

I fell onto the broken glass, shards piercing through my back, blood soaking into my hospital gown.

I didn't struggle.

I looked at the ceiling over his shoulder.

A tide of hatred rose in my eyes.

Half an hour later, for the first time ever, he sent me a text message.