My hands froze.
For a heartbeat, I couldn’t understand what I was looking at.
Then my mind caught up.
Dark purple bruises covered both of Megan’s legs from her thighs to her ankles. Some were fading into sickly yellow. Others were fresh, swollen, and angry. Deep fingerprints ringed her calves as though someone had grabbed her with terrifying force.
My knees nearly gave out.
“What… happened?”
Megan didn’t answer.
She simply closed her eyes.
Behind me, my mother gasped with practiced surprise.
“Oh my God! Jake… who did this to her?”
For a second, I almost believed her.
Then I noticed something.
Megan wasn’t looking at me.
She was staring directly at my mother.
Not with fear of being exposed.
With fear of her.
I slowly turned around.
My mother’s expression lasted only a fraction of a second before changing into concern.
Too fast.
Far too fast.
“Megan must have fallen,” she said quickly. “Pregnant women bruise easily.”
I looked back at the bruises.
These weren’t falls.
Someone had held her down.
Someone much stronger.
“Megan,” I whispered.
“Please… tell me the truth.”
Tears rolled silently down her face.
“I was trying to protect your family.”
“My family?”
She nodded weakly.
“Our baby…”
Before she could continue, she doubled over in pain.
Blood slowly spread across the bedsheet.
My heart stopped.
“Megan!”
I scooped her into my arms while dialing 911 with shaking fingers.
As I carried her toward the front door, my mother reached for my arm.
“Jake, calm down! You’re overreacting!”
I pulled away.
Để lại một phản hồi