The Hayes estate was a gilded cage, ruled by Eleanor’s barbaric decree: the first to conceive would be the next Mrs. Hayes.
I was Sarah Walker, once a daughter of privilege, now just one of Ethan Hayes’s many diversions.
Last time, I was the one who got pregnant first, and Tiffany, his supposed true love, faked her suicide.
The day my son was born, Ethan dragged me from the hospital bed, forcing me to kneel at her elaborate, empty grave.
He screamed that I’d stolen her place, driven her to despair, and destroyed everything my parents left me.
He knew about my blood disorder, yet he carved into me, watching the life drain out.