Professor Penn smiled and said, “You’re right. Naylor, you ought to meet Miss Windsor.”

“Of course.”

As they left the office, Jamison remained silent, his expression unreadable.

Ivy, however, appeared unfazed.

Once inside the elevator, she turned back to him, her gaze uncertain. “Do you… mind if I have my uterus removed? I mean, if I become… not quite a whole woman anymore?”

Jamison looked at her, his face grave and sincere. “It’s not about whether I mind,” he said quietly. “Any surgery is a risk to you, especially something as drastic as removing an organ. Unless it’s absolutely necessary, I don’t want you to go through with it.”

Ivy didn’t reply.

But she understood – Jamison was genuinely worried about her, not about whether she could have children.

When the elevator doors slid open, both stepped out, each weighed down by their own troubled thoughts.

Suddenly, up ahead, someone was jostled by a passerby and dropped what they were carrying.

The woman froze, then bent stiffly to pick up her things, her movements awkward, as if her back and legs refused to cooperate.

From behind, Ivy assumed she was pregnant and instinctively hurried forward to help.

But as she straightened and handed the items back, she caught a glimpse of the woman’s face – and stopped short in shock.

It was Emma.

She wore a black face mask that covered most of her features, but her eyes were visibly swollen and ringed with red. A bruise darkened her cheekbone, and one arm was bound tightly in a sling across her chest. Judging by how she’d moved, there were likely more injuries hidden beneath her clothes.

Ivy’s eyes widened. She studied Emma with concern. “What happened to your…”

Jamison, spotting Emma’s battered state, was just as stunned.

Thinking back to the engagement party the night before, and remembering Sheridan’s notorious reputation, Jamison exchanged a look with Ivy – and in that instant, they both understood.

She’d been abused – by her fiancé.

They’d always known this day would come, but neither expected it would happen so soon. On the very night of the engagement.

For a long moment, none of them spoke. Emma simply stood there, her exposed eyes trembling with shame, rage, and helplessness.

The night before, Sheridan had come home drunk after the party and started looking for a fight. He accused Emma of being unfaithful, then called her an embarrassment in front of his family. When Emma tried to defend herself, it only fueled his fury and he began to beat her.

Terrified and desperate, Emma called her family. Rosetta had rushed over to help, but she was powerless against Sheridan’s drunken violence.

Trying to reason with an abusive drunk was like talking to a wall. Sheridan grew even more enraged, threw Rosetta out of the apartment, then locked the door and turned on Emma with renewed cruelty.

Afterwards, as if that weren’t enough, he dragged her to bed, forced pills or God knows what into her mouth, and spent the rest of the night tormenting her like some kind of animal.

By morning, Emma was in so much pain she could barely move. She called her family again, and this time Rosetta arrived with a driver and rushed her to the hospital.

In her confusion and pain, Emma hadn’t realized they’d come to the very hospital where Jamison worked.

Nor could she have imagined she’d run straight into Jamison and Ivy.

Now, the three stood facing each other in uneasy silence, Emma’s shame and humiliation nearly palpable.

Ivy’s voice cut through the thick air. “You came to the hospital alone, injured like this? Mr. Carter isn’t with you?” She knew full well what had happened, but couldn’t resist twisting the knife just a little deeper.