Chapter 2

The plane landed in San Diego. As soon as I turned my phone on, the postpartum recovery center called.

"Emma, your husband just told us not to cancel the suite. Another patient will be using it. Since the deposit came from your side, we need your confirmation."

The staff sent over the change form.

The new guest was Vanessa and her baby.

That twelve-thousand-dollar deposit had come from money I had saved bit by bit after getting pregnant.

"I don't agree. Refund it to my account."

Not long after I hung up, Adrian called.

"Why won't you let Vanessa stay there? She likes the place."

"You're giving your wife's suite to your lover for postpartum care. Adrian, I am not that generous."

"I gave them four hundred fifty thousand dollars to arrange another center for you."

"I never received it."

He went quiet for a moment.

"I'll look into the money."

"But that center is fully booked until next month. Vanessa can only move in now if you approve the name change."

"I'll reimburse the deposit. Let her have the room."

When I was dying in delivery, he blamed me for spending the three hundred thousand dollars he supposedly sent each month.

For Vanessa, he did not even ask the price.

"No."

"I've already asked someone at the hospital to confirm the baby didn't make it."

"It was an accident. Don't use it against her."

He said it so lightly, as if the child who died had not been his.

"I'll bring them to San Diego the day after tomorrow. We'll talk face-to-face."

I hung up and told the center to issue the refund directly.

That afternoon, the hotel front desk delivered a jewelry box.

Inside was a diamond tennis bracelet.

Adrian texted:

[Compensation.]

[I told them to choose something within a nine-hundred-thousand-dollar budget.]

I had once paused to look at that bracelet in a luxury department store while pregnant.

He had remembered.

But the receipt in the box said sixty thousand dollars.

Then Lydia posted an Instagram Story.

In the photo, all three women wore diamond tennis bracelets.

The bill on the table showed three bracelets totaling eight hundred ninety-one thousand dollars.

Lydia captioned it:

[The nine-hundred-thousand-dollar budget meant for his wife was just enough for one bracelet each. She can have the free gift.]

Vanessa replied while holding the baby:

[We deserve a handling fee.]

For three years, Adrian believed he had been giving me three hundred thousand dollars a month.

Now he believed he had given me a nine-hundred-thousand-dollar bracelet.

What reached me was always whatever they left behind.

I asked the front desk to return the bracelet.

In the corner of the photo was a San Diego itinerary.

Adrian, the three so-called family in-laws, Vanessa, and her baby would arrive the day after tomorrow.

The beach, hand-and-footprint keepsakes, a first lock of hair, and a family portrait by the ocean.

Nothing had been changed.

I had made that plan when I was five months pregnant.

I booked the photographer, prepared the keepsake clay, and bought a box for the baby's first lock of hair.

When I showed it to Adrian, he had only said, "The baby won't understand any of this. There's no need for so much ceremony."

So I put the plan away.

Then the anonymous account sent another screenshot from the group chat.

Vanessa asked:

[Her baby is gone. Can I use the one-month milestone plan for mine?]

Adrian replied:

[Use her schedule. She's always thorough with these things.]

Below the screenshot was the photographer's confirmation form.

The date was the thirtieth day after the baby was born.

It was also the day my baby should have reached his one-month milestone.

The form read:

[Father: Adrian.]

[Mother: Vanessa.]

[Theme: Baby's first family portrait.]

The plan I had made for my own child had been copied almost exactly for Vanessa and her son.

I saved the bills and chat logs and sent them all to my attorney.

Then I checked out of the hotel and found another place in San Diego.

Two days later, they would come here following the plan I had written.

But Adrian would not find me.