The night before I gave birth, I overheard my husband secretly offer the doctor $500,000 to make sure I died during delivery so he could start a new life with his five-month-pregnant mistress. I pretended to be asleep—but by the next day, his plan had completely backfired.

What frightened them.

What they hid.

Then he used it.

Dr. Hale finally said,

“Leave.”

Daniel laughed softly.

“Don’t pretend you’re offended.”

“Leave.”

“Tomorrow morning.”

The doctor’s voice became colder.

“I said leave.”

There was a long pause.

Then Daniel spoke.

“Think about your family.”

My skin went cold.

That was not persuasion.

That was a threat.

I heard footsteps.

The sitting room door opened.

Closed.

Then silence.

I waited.

Five seconds.

Ten.

Twenty.

Then Dr. Hale entered my room.

I kept my eyes shut.

He stood beside my bed.

I could feel him looking at me.

Then he whispered,

“Mrs. Bennett?”

I did not move.

Another second passed.

Then he left.

The door closed.

I waited again.

Only when I was certain I was alone did I open my eyes.

My whole body was shaking.

I pulled the phone from beneath my pillow.

The recording was still running.

Thirty-two minutes.

I stopped it.

Then I forwarded the file to my attorney.

Laura Kingston.

Next, I uploaded it to my private cloud account.

Then I sent it to my older brother, Ethan.

I typed one sentence.

If anything happens to me or my baby tomorrow, take this recording straight to the police.

My phone started ringing instantly.

Ethan.

I declined.

I could not risk Daniel hearing the phone.

A message appeared.

CLAIRE WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?

Another.

CALL ME.

Another.

ARE YOU SAFE?

My fingers moved quickly.

For now.

Do not come here.

Do not call Daniel.