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