ual, cutting remark that twisted the knife already in my gut. "But she's too emotional. Too

his own purposes and was now ready to discard. The man I loved, the man I though

owed-out twenty-two-year-old, weeping in his arms after the funeral. He had held me, murmuring promises of protection,

nto my work, designing buildings for him, creating a legacy I thought we were building together. I had given him my parents' land,

c, stupid fo

me from the fire

y with this. He would not take my parents, my legacy, and my children and walk away unscathed. A plan, vague and formless, began to flicker in

ark was saying, his voice arrogant. "She'll do whatever I say

ad built, about the babies I was carrying. It was all just le

r word. The pain in my abdomen was getting worse, a persiste

e door, my movements clumsy and uncoordinated. I didn't look ba

blurring with unshed tears. Each step was an agony, both physical an

in seconds, plastering my hair to my face, but I barely noticed. I just ran. I ran without direction, without a destinatio

eeks. The city lights blurred into a meaningless smear of color. The sound of the stor