His Prophecy, Her Shattered Spirit

lia

nally, without his suffocating presence. The nurses, sensing my isolation, were quietly kind, bringing me extra blankets and warm tea. I used the solitude to process the raw,

o the mansion, now more of a prison than ever. But as I approache

t, devoid of emotion. "Mr. Hodge has given stri

. "Not permitted?

g belongings and relocate to an apartment he has arranged. It is a generous

aying me off like a troublesome employee. His "generosity" was a gilded cage, a final insult design

divorce agreement, still tucked away in a hidden compartment in one of my packed boxes. He thought h

d I will enter my home." My unexpected defiance clearly startled him. He hesitated, th

ng, broken only by the distant, high-pitched cries of the twins. As I headed towar

ich sapphire color that had once brought out the warmth in his eyes. It was too big for her, draping loosely, but the message

, forcing myself to ignore the searing pain of betrayal. I just needed to

ed of new money trying too hard. I ignored it, my eyes scanning the familiar space for the hidden panel where I kept my most cherished

. Empty. The panel swung open, revealing nothing but bare wood. My breath hitched. Panic, cold and sharp, c

nt, spoke, her voice dripping with false concern. "Looking

my things, Chyna? What have you done?" My

et. My eyes widened, my blood freezing in my veins. The blanket. It was my wedding veil. The heirloom lace, passed down from my grandmother, that I

shioned. But I thought they'd make lovely swaddling for the boys. Especially this beautiful lace. So delicate. And this little cap," she squeezed the baby's head

hild's cap. Transformed into swaddling for her sons. The desecration, the sheer spite

I lunged at her. "You bitch!" I screamed, tearing at the blanket, ripping it from

er eyes wide with feigned terror. Before she could react, my hand connected with her face, a resound

eyes met mine, and for a fleeting moment, I saw it-not pain, not fear, but a flicker of

raw fury that surpassed even my own. He had appeared from nowhere, his face a mask of rage. "What the hell