. My mind wasn't on the road; it was lost in the p

was a shy, scholarship student with a slight limp he claimed was from a childhood accident. He wore faded jeans

t was pure, and my kindness was the only wealth he' d ever need. I, a lonely art student who had just

ed on my phone before leaving the conference hall said the Chens were old money, a tech dynasty. He had been testing me, seeing if I

simple white dress I' d sewn myself. He promised me that

critical. He' d snap at me for small things, like spending a few extra dollars on better quality paint for my art

nt. I was overjoyed. I thought a child would

went pale, then twisted

e hissed, his voi

ng to be parents!" I sa

rid o

a slap. "What? No! Dav

and hard. "We can barely feed ourselves. How the he

harder, I told him. I would take o

r company," started visiting our apartment. She was always so kind, so sympathetic to our "str

, Sarah," she' d say with a warm s

p in the hospital to the devastating news. I had miscarried. The doctors found traces of a speci

d sobbing, he showed no emotion. He just

said, pulling his hand a

It wasn't an accident. Emily had done it. And David had let her. The thought made m

go. My father, my only living relative, was diagnosed with a rare heart condition. The s

s working on his big "Genesi

ance. A loan. Anything. I' ll pay it back, I swear. I'l

h those same, pract

is already angry with me. The project is behind schedule. If

father's life

shot back. "I'm doing this fo

t was all I had. But the money wasn' t enough, a

fingers, comforted me with empty words about the cruelty of fate. He held me as I cried, his touch

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