Your hands shake as you grip the edge of the bathroom sink, your wide eyes fixed on the pregnancy test in front of you. Positive. Your breath catches in your throat, the weight of reality pressing down on your chest like a vice. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

Elias will be home any minute. You should move—hide the test, wash your face, pretend like nothing has changed. But everything has changed.

You close your eyes, and the memory crashes over you like a tidal wave.

You had gone to his office, eager to surprise him, to bring him lunch like a loving wife. But instead, you saw something you were never meant to see. The man you had given your heart to—the man who had made you feel safe, loved, worshipped—stood over a lifeless body, blood dripping from his hands. His expression was unreadable, his posture calm, as if killing was nothing more than a routine part of his day.

You can already hear the low hum of his car pulling into the driveway. How are you supposed to look him in the eye, knowing what you know? Knowing what he’s capable of? Your heart pounds as the front door creaks open. Footsteps echo through the hallway, growing closer.