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Imogene Scott Damien refuses to speak to me for the rest of the trip. I don’t blame him, I really messed up and it has once again cost us our relationship. I try to keep my thoughts occupied with Lily throughout the remaining twenty four hours that the storm persisted. Even throughout the flight home, we didn’t say anything to each other. The moment we touch down in LA, I feel the gnawing guilt that has been growing in my chest again. Damien and I have barely spoken since the incident with Jace. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly as he drives, but his eyes are fixed on the road ahead. I glance at him, wanting to say something, but the words don’t come out. Instead, I just stare out the window and let my mind by consumed by one thing—Lily.By the time we pull up to Aces penthouse, stomach is in knots. I practically throw the car door open, not waiting for Damien as I rush into the building. The walk across the lobby feels like forever but I finally walk into the elevator. D
Imogene Scott As soon as we buckle Lily into the backseat, I can feel my heart squeezing in my chest. Damien and I slid into the front seat and he starts the engine. But his gaze flickers to me before pulling out of the parking lot. "It's going to be fine," he says, but I can hear the tension underneath. He’s trying to reassure me, but all I can think about is how wrong everything feels. I look back at Lily through the rearview mirror. Her tiny body is slumped slightly and her eyelids flutter as if even staying awake is too much effort.I force myself to breathe, to keep it together, but the sight of her pale face, the way her little hands rest limply in her lap, is too much for me to take in. "She's too warm," I murmur, more to myself than to Damien.My hand is hovering over her forehead again as if I could do something—anything—to make her feel better. Damien reaches over, squeezing my knee gently. His eyes briefly meeting mine. "Kids get fevers. Kids get tired. We’re just
Damien Shaw The drive home feels suffocating and hands grip the steering wheel tighter to ease the tension in my shoulders. I glance over at Imogene. She’s staring out the window. Her eyes are red from holding back tears. She hasn’t said a word since we left the hospital. She doesn’t need to—her pain is written all over her face.I hate this feeling. This helplessness. I don't give a damn about what happened with Jace anymore. Right now, none of that matters. The only thing that does is Lily. And Imogene. I look in the rearview mirror at our little girl. She’s still too pale, too fragile and her head is resting against the car seat. Seeing her like this... it cuts me deep in ways I can’t even articulate. She’s so small. Too small for this kind of fear.When we finally pull into the penthouse, Imogene unbuckles her seatbelt but doesn’t move for a moment. I reach out, placing my hand on hers. “We’ll get through this,” I say.She doesn’t respond, just nods slightly, then gets out
Imogene ScottThe first light of dawn filters through the curtains as I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. I haven’t slept, not really. Damien is beside me, his breaths deep and steady, but I know he didn’t sleep much either. His arm is across his chest and his face is turned towards me in his sleep. Quietly, I slip out of bed, careful not to disturb him. The floor is cold under my feet as I make my way down the hall to Lily’s room. The door is slightly ajar and soft light is spilling in from the curtains. I step inside and I see Lily. She’s still asleep, curled up on her side with her favorite stuffed rabbit tucked under her arm.I stand there for a moment, just watching her. Her tiny chest rises and falls with each breath, and for a fleeting second, it’s like everything is normal again. Like she’s just sleeping peacefully, like any other morning. But then I see the faint bruises on her arms and the knot in my stomach tightens. I feel so helpless. My baby girl... she’s so small
Damien Shaw The drive to the oncologist feels endless. Imogene is in the passenger seat, her face turned toward the window, but I know she’s not really seeing anything. She hasn’t said much since this morning, since the call. I glance at her, her hand resting limp in her lap, and the sight makes something twist painfully in my chest.Lily is quiet in the back, strapped into her car seat, her small voice asking every now and then. I force a smile, looking at her through the rearview mirror. “Almost there, sweetie,”I grip the steering wheel harder, my knuckles turning white, trying to hold myself together for both of them.The closer we get to the hospital, the more my stomach tightens, a knot of dread that’s been growing since the blood test results came in. I can’t shake the thought—the possibility—that today’s the day everything changes. That we’re about to hear something we can’t unhear.When we finally pull into the hospital parking lot, Imogene turns to me. There’s fea
Imogene Scott The oncologist’s words blur together. It’s a stream of medical jargon that I can’t fully grasp. “Bone marrow transplant… a match… family members…” It all echoes around me like I’m underwater, and everything else seems distant. I stare at Lily who’s now sitting on the hospital bed. Her little fingers are clutching the toy we brought from home and she’s smiling at it, making it bounce in her lap.My throat tightens. How is this happening? How is this our reality? Lily shouldn’t be here. She should be playing outside, laughing, not lying on a hospital bed with tubes in her arms. The doctor is still talking, but every word hits like a sledgehammer to my chest. "We need to find a match,” he says, and I nod because I know I’m supposed to, but my mind is still struggling to comprehend. A match. We need a match.Immediate family. That’s us. Me. Damien. Maybe one of us can save her. “We’ll start testing as soon as possible,” the doctor continues, his eyes flicking between
Damien Shaw I volunteer to be tested first. It’s the only thing I know how to do in this moment, the only thing that makes sense. “We’ll both do it,” I say, glancing at Imogene.She’s now quiet again I feel this ache in my chest because I don’t know how to fix this. I’ve always been able to fix things for us before, but this? This is beyond anything I can control. The drive to the lab is a blur. We’re accompanied by one of doctor Whitman’s specialists. Imogene is quiet, staring out the window like she’s always doing. I keep my hand on her thigh, squeezing it every now and then, but she doesn’t react. I’m terrified of what’s going through her head, of the distance growing between us, even though I know it’s not me she’s pulling away from — it’s the weight of all this.When we get to the lab, the smell of antiseptic hits me hard, and I hate it. I hate that this is our reality now, that this is where we have to be because our daughter is sick. I glance at Imogene again as they l
Imogene Scott Lily giggles as she picks at the last piece of her banana pancake. Her tiny fingers are sticky with syrup. I watch her as I rest my head against the back of the chair. But my mind is somewhere else. The bracelet. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, staring up at the ceiling as if the answer is hidden somewhere in the cracks. Did I put it there? Had I forgotten? That’s the only logical explanation. Lately, I’ve been forgetful—missing appointments, losing track of time, misplacing things. Maybe this is just another slip, another thing lost in the chaos of my mind. But it doesn’t feel right. I inhale deeply, my fingers curling into my lap. I need to see it again. “Lily, baby, I’ll be right back,” I say, pushing my chair back. She nods, too focused on her food to question me. I walk upstairs slowly, each step. When I reach my bedroom, I hesitate for a moment before stepping inside. The room is dim. I make my way to the dresser. The drawer creaks
Imogene Scott Lily swings her legs under the table, her tiny feet barely brushing the ground as she happily digs into her mint chocolate ice cream. A small smear of green is at the corner of her mouth. She hums quietly as she eats, completely lost in her own little world. I should be able to enjoy this moment. Watching her be this happy should bring me peace, but it doesn’t. My stomach twists as I stare at her even though my own ice cream is melting in the cup. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let things get this far. I shouldn’t have let my past mistakes bleed into Lily’s life. She’s just a child, my child, and she deserves to grow up without the weight of my sins pressing down on her. She looks up suddenly, “Mommy, are you okay?” I force a smile, even though my face feels stiff. “Of course, baby.” Lily nods, satisfied with my answer, and goes back to her ice cream. “Very good, Mommy,” she says in her soft, sweet voice before taking another spoonful. I w
Imogene Scott I pull back from Damien’s embrace. He exhales heavily, brushing his fingers over my cheek before saying, "I need to get back to work. I’ll see you at home tonight."I frown. "You don’t think you should go home first? Shower, change?"He smirks, rubbing his jaw. "It’s already midday, I’ll do everything later tonight."I shake my head, wrapping my arms around him again despite the sweat and stress clinging to his skin. "I want to hug you all day even though you smell so bad.""No, I don’t," he scoffs, tightening his hold on me. "You’re just being mean."I smile against his chest, inhaling deeply before stepping back. "Where are you headed now?" he asks, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear."Lily’s school."His expression shifts. "Something wrong?"I open my mouth to say no—because I don’t want to worry him, because I know how he gets—but then I remember: no more secrets. That’s what we promised each other.I press my lips together and nod. "One of Lily’s clas
Damien Shaw I take a deep breath, my fingers tightening around the pen in my hand as I stare at Imogene. The way she’s looking at me—hurt, disappointed—makes something sharp twist in my chest, but I refuse to let it show. I remind myself why I stayed at the office last night, why I drowned myself in work instead of coming home. Because she needs to understand. Because she’s reckless. Because she keeps putting herself in situations that put our family in danger, and she doesn’t seem to grasp that her actions have consequences.But then there’s the guilt too, gnawing at the back of my mind. I didn’t just stay here to punish her—I stayed because I didn’t trust myself not to say something I’d regret. And now, looking at her standing in front of me, holding that ultrasound picture, my resolve wavers.God, I want to take it from her. I want to reach for it, to see them, to feel something other than this exhaustion and frustration. But if I give in too quickly, she’ll think she can get
Imogene Scott The morning air is crisp as I step out of the house, wrapping my coat a little tighter around myself. A light breeze brushes against my skin as I feel the chill settle in my lungs.I climb into my car, my hands gripping the cold steering wheel as I exhale. My mind is full of thoughts, but the one at the forefront is Damien. He didn’t come home last night. I’d stayed up, waiting, hoping the sound of his footsteps would echo through the hallway. But all I got was silence.When I finally called his office, an employee answered and confirmed what I’d already suspected. He had spent the night there, drowning himself in work just to avoid me. That’s how furious he was. My chest tightens as I pull out of the driveway, gripping the steering wheel a little harder.I plan on stopping by his office later, but first, my doctor’s appointment. Then Lily’s school.The hospital is a fifteen-minute drive, but it feels longer. My mind keeps circling back to Damien’s face last night,
Imogene’s pov I watch as Damien storms out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him with a force that rattles the walls. My hands tremble at my sides, my heart hammering against my ribs. I knew he would be upset—I expected anger, frustration—but not this kind of fury. Not the kind that makes his voice shake with disappointment, that makes his eyes burn with something dangerously close to resentment.I sit down heavily on the edge of the bed, exhaling a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My mind races. How did he find out? Who told him? And why, after everything, does it still hurt that he’s so mad at me? He’s the only person left standing beside me in this storm, and now I feel like I’m losing him too.Subconsciously, I place my hands over my belly. The twins stir inside me, and I close my eyes. I’m due in two months. Two months until my life changes again. Two months until I’m holding them in my arms. But will I even be here for them? Or will I be behind bars, labeled “
Damien Shaw I step into my office, and the shift in the atmosphere is immediate. The air feels charged, thick with something. Eyes flicker toward me, then dart away, as if my presence is suddenly a weight they can’t bear to acknowledge. It’s been like this for days—whispers in the corridors, hushed conversations that stop the moment I step too close.They see me as a man protecting a murderer.I clench my jaw, ignoring the way my employees’ gazes follow me as I make my way to my office. The door clicks shut behind me, and I exhale slowly, my fingers pressing against my temples. The scandal is bleeding into IMU, seeping into the cracks, poisoning the foundation I spent years building. It isn’t just the company’s reputation at stake—investors are losing faith, deals are slipping through the cracks.And worst of all, there’s no solid proof that Imogene is innocent.I sit down, leaning back in my chair, the leather creaking beneath my weight. I need a plan. Something to turn this arou
Imogene Scott I grip the steering wheel, my knuckles whitening as I pull into the parking lot of the police station. My heart is hammering against my ribcage, so loud it nearly drowns out the hum of the engine. A part of me screams to turn back, to go home, to pretend I never got that text. But another part—the logical, rational part—knows that avoiding this will only make me look guilty.I take a deep breath, steadying myself before stepping out of the car. I pull my coat tighter around my body, trying to suppress the shiver crawling up my spine. The station’s glass doors slide open, and I walk in, my heels clicking against the tiled floor. The fluorescent lights overhead are too bright, making my skin prickle.A female officer greets me. “Mrs. Shaw, this way.”My stomach clenches. My voice feels lodged in my throat as I follow her down the hall. She leads me into an interrogation room, and I hesitate before stepping inside. The walls are bare, painted a dull gray, and the sing
Imogene scott The next morning I wake up early to make breakfast for Damien as a thank you for the ice cream yesterday. It’s not like I was able to sleep anyway. I slip into my flip flops and walk out of the room. Damien is still sleeping because it’s still 6:30pm. The scent of scrambled eggs hits me the moment I step off the last stair. I pause. That’s strange. It’s Saturday. Sheila shouldn’t be here this early. I pull my robe tighter around my body, shivering even though the house is warm. I walk into the kitchen to see Sheila standing at the stove, humming softly as she stirs a pan of eggs. There’s already a plate of bacon resting on the counter, and the coffee machine is also gurgling.“Sheila?” I say.She looks over her shoulder, startled. “Oh! Morning, Imogene.” I frown. “What are you doing here so early?” Sheila blinks at me, then lets out a small chuckle like I just told a joke she doesn’t quite get. “You asked me to come early today.” My stomach dips. “I did?”