Emma’s joy screeched to a halt the moment she heard the news.
“She’s not dead?” The words slipped out before she could stop herself–and only after did Emma realize how that sounded.
Sure enough, Micah shot her a startled look. “Emma, are you really wishing your own sister was dead?”
“No, I… I’m just worried about her, that’s all,” Emma stammered, panic prickling beneath her skin as she tried to cover her tracks. She quickly pressed for details, desperate to regain composure. “So… how badly is she hurt? Where is she now? Did anyone say how the accident happened?”
“I don’t know,” Micah replied, caught between covering for Emma and Ivy. “I didn’t want to reach out to her directly–if you found out, you’d get mad. So I didn’t ask much.”
The rest of the Windsor family, overhearing the conversation, exchanged glances. News that their eldest daughter was still alive left everyone with mixed emotions–some looked visibly relieved, others, oddly disappointed.
Once the call ended, Emma sat in a daze, her mind spinning. She’d convinced herself that after several days of silence, Ivy must have died in that wreck–gone without a trace. Emma had even felt a secret thrill, believing her plan had worked flawlessly.
But now, Ivy was alive. Somewhere out there, hiding.
A chill ran through Emma. What if Ivy had figured something out? Maybe she was lying low, trying to come up with a counterattack.
Emma recalled how Katrina had shown up at the house early that morning, supposedly looking for Ivy. What if that, too, was a setup?
Ivy had no other friends. If she’d been injured in the crash but wasn’t in the hospital or back home, she’d have to be holed up somewhere else–probably with Katrina tending to her.
This was bad. Really bad.
Katrina’s visit must have been a test, Emma realized, a way to confirm Ivy’s suspicions.
“Emma, are you alright? You look pale,” Rosetta asked, concern creasing her face as she watched her youngest daughter sitting there, dazed after the phone call.
Snapping out of it, Emma forced herself to appear calm. She reassured herself silently: It’s fine. At most, Ivy only suspects me. She has no proof.
The people she’d paid off were long gone from Neo Haven, and without witnesses or evidence, Ivy could only harbor her doubts in secret. Just as she’d suspected Emma of conspiring with those traffickers months ago–nothing had come of it.
“I’m fine, just really tired lately,” Emma said, seizing on her pregnancy as an excuse. “I’ve been so sleepy these days…”
Rosetta nodded, sympathetic. “That’s normal. You should go get some rest, sweetheart.”
“Okay. Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Dad.”
Emma managed a smile, said her goodbyes, and headed upstairs. But her nerves were still shot, her mind a restless whirlwind.
Seated on the edge of her bed, Emma tried to strategize her next move. If Ivy really suspected her, she’d start digging for evidence. And if the Windsor family ever discovered the truth–that Emma had orchestrated everything–they’d toss her out without a second thought.
She’d left the orphanage behind years ago, and she’d grown used to this life of privilege and luxury. She couldn’t imagine going back to those days of poverty and loneliness.
She needed a plan. Fast.
At least she still had Micah’s child growing inside her. As long as she delivered that baby safely, her position as the future Mrs. Shepherd would be secure. Even if the Windsors found out the truth one day and disowned her, she’d still have the Shepherd family to rely on.
The thought soothed her nerves a little. Absentmindedly, she rested a hand on her belly, whispering a silent prayer for her unborn child.
Suddenly, something cold and wet crawled across her foot. Emma jerked, heart lurching, and glanced down–only to shriek in terror, her scream echoing off the walls as she bolted from the room.
“Mom! Oh my God!”
Completely rattled, she dashed into the hallway, panic wiping away all sense. Before she could stop herself, she tripped at the top of the stairs–her foot slipping off the edge–and tumbled down, crashing from step to step in a helpless heap.