The hospital corridors stretched out like endless tunnels, sterile and suffocating. The hum of fluorescent lights echoed in Joanna’s ears, yet all she could hear was the pounding of her own heart. Her vision blurred with tears, but her resolve had never been sharper.
She could no longer stay here—not when betrayal clung to every wall, not when Carson and Alice paraded their affair so openly. If she remained, she would drown under the weight of humiliation.
She pressed a trembling hand against the cool wall, steadying herself. Her body was heavy from the late stages of pregnancy, but her mind screamed at her to move.
I have to get out. Now.
Her steps quickened, almost frantic. Just as she reached the elevator, a figure appeared—Amy, Carson’s secretary. The woman leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, lips curled into a mocking smile.
“Leaving already, Mrs. Stormclaw?” she drawled. “Running away solves nothing. Or perhaps… you’re finally giving up?”
The venom in Amy’s tone made Joanna’s blood boil. For years, she had ignored the subtle smirks, the whispered rumors, the way Amy’s loyalty bent only to Carson. Now, with her dignity hanging by a thread, Joanna could see it clearly: Amy was just another pawn placed against her.
Joanna lifted her chin, locking eyes with her. “Step aside.”
Amy’s smirk widened. “Or what? You’ll claw me with those dainty hands? You can’t even protect yourself, much less—”