Stolen Womb, Stolen Life
ul light that felt like a mockery. Matthew was already awake,
ng, my love," he said,
tch, its gold bracelet gleaming. It was be
voice carefully neutral. I let him fasten it
the media loved to capture. "Nothing'
l blow. I forced a smile back.
k about the Thanksgiving dinner at his parents' estate, the biggest social event
ocked myself in my bathroom and called
I whispered, my voice tight
her voice, only concern.
e. I need you to be ready. I' m going to send you s
oyalty a small, steady light in the da
omised, though I wa
. I told Matthew I' d left my favorite scarf there. It was a lie. I needed to s
suite, I heard his voice, shar
ition! I don' t care what you have to do, it needs to be ready
ening. His tone was so different from the gentle, doting husband he pla
a cheerful ignorance
rm smile. "Just a minor issue with a supplier. Nothing to worry
g up a pashmina I' d grab
ole' s latest post. It was a picture of her wrist, adorned with a multi-milli
too beautiful to keep. Thank you to m
jeweler Matthew had been yelling at. He hadn't been buying a gift for me. He had be
tory they wrote about us in magazines-it was all a