Leave No Trace of Me

A car crash at eight months pregnant sent me into premature labor, and the force of the impact unexpectedly restored my hearing.

Outside the operating room, my husband was in a hushed conversation with the doctor.

"Mr. Reed, the baby is full-term. Despite the crash, the little one's vitals are stable, so a natural delivery is possible..."

Maxwell Reed cut him off. "No. Deliver by C-section, now. I promised Vivian that Lily would be claimed as a legitimate Reed. She's almost a month old. Any longer and it'll be too late to make the switch."

"It would be better if the baby Harper's carrying doesn't survive. She's young; she can always have another. This is the only way she'll accept Lily as her own."

I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing a calm I didn't feel.

He thought his lies were seamless. He was wrong. I could hear every single word.

Since he wanted to play the part of a devoted husband, I would play his game to the bitter end.

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1

Dr. Harrison looked troubled, beads of sweat dotting his forehead as he pushed up his glasses.

"Mr. Reed, Harper's body is in a fragile state. She went through countless rounds of fertility treatments to conceive this child. You two tried for nearly three years... If she knew the child she fought so hard for was stolen from her, it would destroy her."

The anesthesia began to seep into my limbs. I willed myself to move, but I couldn't even twitch a finger.

Maxwell Reed strode in and took my hand. He gazed down at my "sleeping" face with a gentle smile, but his words were colder than a viper's venom.

"Don't worry, she's deaf as a post. Just up the anesthesia later. She'll never find out."

"Both babies are girls, and Lily has my eyes and brow. She won't suspect a thing."

Dr. Harrison opened his mouth, his conscience putting up one last struggle, but Maxwell waved him off.

"Vivian has been with me for three years. I already feel guilty that I can't make her my wife. I have to make sure our child is recognized as the eldest daughter of the Reed family."

Dr. Harrison wiped away his sweat and sighed. Faced with the powerful man before him, he chose silence.

A needle pierced my skin again. As the cold liquid flooded my veins, my consciousness faded into a world built on lies.

Maxwell leaned down, his lips brushing my forehead in a tender kiss. Anyone watching would have seen a devoted, anxious husband. He skillfully signed to me.

[Don't be afraid, my love. I'll be with you the whole time, until our baby is born.]

But just before I blacked out, I heard him say one last thing to the doctor.

"Get the baby out before the anesthesia wears off. Clean everything up. Leave no trace."

I closed my eyes. In a daze, I felt something being torn from my body.

Suddenly, a baby's piercing cry rang out from outside. Maxwell instantly dropped my hand and rushed out.

"Lily, don't cry, Daddy's here."

I don't know how much time passed before I opened my eyes to see Maxwell's face.

His eyes were red and swollen, as if he'd just been crying. Seeing me awake, he hurried over, his hands a blur as he signed.

[My love, does it still hurt? Are you tired? You've suffered so much. If I could, I would take all this pain for you.]

Then, he lifted a baby and placed her beside me.

[Look at our daughter. Isn't she gorgeous?]

I looked down at the baby they called Lily. She was, I had to admit, a beautiful child.

But I couldn't feel a flicker of joy. I thought of my own child, perfect and whole, her life snuffed out by her own father's command. A child I never even got to see.

A sharp pain tore through my chest. I took a deep breath, steeling myself.

Maxwell, lost in the success of his perfect plan, didn't notice the flash of hatred in my eyes. He looked at me eagerly and signed:

[What should we name her? How about—]

My voice was hoarse and alien from disuse.

"Li... ly."

Three years ago, a drug allergy had stolen my hearing. Since then, I had rarely spoken, always self-conscious of how my voice must sound.

The moment I spoke, Maxwell's smile froze. His hands stilled in mid-air.

I kept my expression placid as I watched panic bloom in his eyes. Then, I raised my own hands and began to sign.

[This child... she seems bigger and healthier than most newborns. There's just something about her... like a small, blooming lily. The name just came to me.]

Relief washed over his face as he accepted the coincidence.

[Yes, you're right. We'll go with your idea. Let's call her Lily.]

For the entire month of my postpartum recovery, Maxwell was unbelievably attentive.

He was constantly by my side, helping me with sponge baths and catering to my every need.

But when I feigned sleep, I would often hear him on the phone, his voice a low command.

Sometimes, it was ice-cold.

"Get rid of the car from the crash. Give the driver a payout and make sure his whole family relocates to the Midwest. Tell them never to set foot in New York again."

Other times, his tone would soften into a caress.

"Vivian, just wait a little longer. I promise, you'll be able to see the baby soon."

The day I was discharged, Maxwell brought a woman home.

[This is our new live-in caregiver. I had Carter hire her from a top agency.]

The woman stood in a crisp uniform, a smile on her face that didn't quite hide the malice in her eyes. I remained calm and nodded.

[What's her name?]

Maxwell took my hand, and in my palm, he traced each letter of the name that sent a wave of nausea through me.

[Vivian Cross.]