The Sister's Sacrifice of Miscarriage

You Killed My Child

A filthy, foul-smelling rag was shoved into my mouth. I looked at Lara in confusion, struggling to understand what was happening. Before I could react, another slap came, so hard I felt as though my facial features might shift from the impact.

Behind her, one of her friends sneered at me. "You? You think you're Mr. Reey's sister? As if! Mr. Reey's real sister is married to the CEO of a publicly listed company. Just look at yourself!"

She wasn't wrong. I wasn't wearing any jewelry, nor did my clothes bear any designer logos. But that was only because I was pregnant. Must a person really need to flaunt brand names just to prove their identity?

Lara's eyes narrowed as she mocked me. "My husband's sister has lived abroad all her life, and I've never heard a word about her returning. Who do you think you are?"

"Or are you trying to lie to me so that I would let you go?" She spat the words with such venom. "What a shameless, filthy woman you are!"

Her eyes, full of rage, felt as though they could tear me apart. But soon enough, the pain in my face and the tattered state of my clothes became the least of my concerns.

Because I noticed her gaze was fixated on my swollen belly. In my mind, I screamed. This was the child my husband and I had longed for, and it was also Danny's only hope of survival.

I desperately hoped Lara wouldn't do anything reckless. I prayed that there was still some shred of humanity left in her and that she wouldn't harm my baby.

But the next second, a bucket of ice-cold water was poured over my head. The freezing shock sent shivers through my body, and I looked up to find Lara's eyes filled with unrestrained hatred.

"Why? Why should I let you ruin the marriage I worked so hard to keep together?

"Why is it that my child is lying in a hospital bed fighting for his life, while yours is about to be born healthy?"

"That's right. Get rid of that little bastard!"

"Don't let her get away with it!"

Her friends jeered and encouraged her from behind. Lara grabbed the wooden handle of a mop and hit me hard on the head. I felt a warm trickle of blood running down my forehead, mixing with my tears.

The rag in my mouth muffled my screams, and all I could manage were choked, stifled sobs.

In my heart, I was screaming. 'Stop! Please, stop hurting me! Don't harm my baby!'

Summoning every ounce of strength, I pushed myself up, shoving away the two women restraining me. I had to run. I had to protect my child!

I dashed toward the bathroom door, but just as my fingers brushed against the handle, one of the women shoved me from behind. My belly slammed against the cold edge of the sink, and a searing pain tore through my abdomen.

The agony was unbearable. I clutched my stomach in desperation, and my tears just kept streaming down my face.

We were obviously in a hospital, and just outside that door, there would be a doctor nearby, but I didn't have the strength to walk out. My legs trembled because of the pain. I tried to stand up several times, only to collapse heavily to the floor.

I was like a dying fish, helpless and struggling.

Pulling the rag from my mouth, I looked up at Lara and pleaded in a hoarse voice. "Please, save my child."

I felt warm liquid pooling beneath me, and I was too terrified to look down. I was overwhelmed by panic, chill, and fear.

One of the women behind Lara gasped, "Lara, there's so much blood!"

They all stepped back, and for a moment, I thought maybe they would help. But Lara's eyes remained cold, as if she were staring at something already dead.

"What's the panic for? She's the one who ran into the sink. It has nothing to do with us," she said with a cruel sneer.

"If that bastard dies, then good. Anthony's child will be mine to bear!" she declared with venom.

"Exactly! The child of a mistress doesn't deserve to live!" another echoed.

"This woman brought it all on herself!" someone else chimed in.

The blood continued to pour out of me, staining the floor beneath. They just stood there, staring at me with indifference, as if watching a fish breathe its last.

It was over. My baby was dead. Danny would not survive either. Everything was over.

'I'm sorry, Anthony. I can't help you. I'm sorry, my love. I can't protect our child.'

As I looked at Lara, a bitter sense of irony washed over me. She cared so much about children, yet she had just killed mine and destroyed the only chance her own child had for life.

"You'll regret this," I forced out the words through gritted teeth.