Seven Months Pregnant, I Stole Husband's Three Thousand, He Jailed Me

That night.

I slept curled up in the two square meters left to me in the little attic.

The next morning.

I found the attic door had been replaced with a steel security door.

I gripped the iron bars with both hands and shook them:

"What is this? Let me out!"

"Ma'am, do you wish to use a common area?"

The butler stepped forward, smiling.

"My stomach hurts. I want to go to the hospital."

"That's fine. From here you go downstairs, and at your walking speed it's about five minutes to the front gate.

"That comes to a usage fee of two dollars fifty. How will you be paying?"

"I..."

I stood there like I'd been nailed to the floor.

"Ma'am, Mr. Mason gave clear instructions. To honor the agreement, you must follow the terms exactly.

"Once the usage fee is paid, you may leave the room."

Cramps twisted through my belly, wave after wave.

I clutched my stomach.

Tears welled up in my eyes.

"I... I really don't have any money right now. It all went back to Jeffrey.

"Please, just let me out first. Once I earn some money I swear I'll pay you back..."

The butler shook his head.

"The agreement says no credit."

"But..."

"What's going on? All this shouting."

The click of high heels.

Jean Swanson had a new pair of emerald drop earrings.

The latest release.

Two million at launch price.

They swayed and glinted under the lights.

My hair was a mess as I clung to the bars.

The glare stung my eyes.

The butler forced a smile.

"Ma'am is feeling unwell. She wants to go out."

At the word "ma'am,"

a flicker of contempt curled at the corner of Jean's mouth.

She glanced at my belly.

"The doctor said there's still a month until her due date.

"You've all worked at Mr. Mason's side for years. You can't see through a cheap trick like this?"

"But..."

"Leave her be. Unless there's housework assigned to her in the common areas, if she wants out of that attic at any other time, she pays the usage fee. Understood?"

"Yes, Ms. Swanson."

"Jean Swanson!"

The pain in my stomach left my voice raw.

I knew.

If I didn't seize this chance,

I might never get out at all.

I shoved my arm through the gap in the security door.

My hand caught her earring and yanked.

Jean shrieked.

Then screamed in pain.

"Let me... out..."

"Ms. Swanson! Quick! Somebody help Ms. Swanson!"

The servants didn't dare pull hard at the two of us,

terrified I'd rip the earring straight out of Jean's ear.

Left with no choice,

the butler opened the door.

I threw myself out without a thought,

stumbling, staggering forward.

"Crack!"

A slap caught me across the face before I saw it coming.

I dropped to the floor.

Jeffrey stood over me, and behind him Jean trembled with a hand over her ear.

Just now,

what happened here had come through to Jeffrey over the intercom.

"Drag her back for me!"

"Jeffrey! My stomach really hurts! I have to get to a hospital!"

"What, are you saying you're going into labor?"

Jeffrey narrowed his eyes.

"Jeffrey, I..."

My arms were hauled up.

The security door closed in front of me again.

I collapsed on the floor, both hands clamped tight around the iron bars.

"Jeffrey, it really hurts... let me out..."

"Sure."

He crouched down and held out his palm to me.

"Usage fee, two fifty. How are you paying?"

"Jeffrey!"

I burst into tears.

"You know every cent I had went to pay you back!"

"And?"

"And..."

My voice broke worse and worse.

"I don't even have two fifty..."

"Then there's nothing to discuss."

"Jeffrey..."

I reached my hand through the gap in the door.

Jeffrey slid an arm around Jean's waist.

My hand couldn't reach.

All I could do was stretch it out in despair through the cramping.

"Jeffrey! Come back! Something's going to happen to the baby!"

"Greg..."

"Jeffrey..."

My hand fell.

There was something warm beneath me.

The pain wasn't so sharp anymore.

My mind,

too, was slowly blurring.

A day later.

The backlog of housework was assigned to the attic.

The butler looked uneasy.

"Ma'am... has been in the hospital a full day now."

"Isn't her due date still a month off? Where would she get the money to check in early?"

"No... Mr. Mason, the baby's gone."

Jeffrey froze.

"A miscarriage. Damage to the heart, combined with the physical strain."

Only then did Jeffrey notice

the small dark-brown stain in the attic,

soaked down into the seams of the floorboards,

almost impossible to clean.

His breath caught.

Slow footsteps came from the top of the stairs.

It was me, back.

"Augusta."

He strode toward me.

I lifted my eyes, slow.

Out of the huge canvas bag I drew an envelope.

"Ten thousand. For you."

"Augusta?"

"The divorce agreement, that's for you too."