I moved in with her. I wasn’t going to leave her side until that baby was born.
Life began to settle. The bruises on Olivia’s face faded to yellow, then disappeared. Her arm healed. Her belly grew round. We planted a garden. We baked pies. We didn’t talk about the Sterlings.
Until April.
Arthur Sterling contacted us. He wanted to visit.
He came alone, driving a modest sedan instead of his usual limousine. He looked older, tired.
“Hello, Olivia,” he said, standing on the porch. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“Come in, Arthur,” she said. She was wary, but polite.
He sat in the living room, declining tea. He placed a new folder on the coffee table.
“I promised I wouldn’t intrude,” he began. “But I found something during the audit of Lucille’s personal files. Something you need to know.”
“What is it?”
“Medical records,” Arthur said. “From two years ago. When you were pregnant the first time.”
Olivia went still. She had miscarried her first pregnancy at ten weeks. It had devastated her.
“It wasn’t an accident,” Arthur said, his voice breaking. “Lucille… she was paying your housekeeper to slip abortifacients into your food. Small doses. Just enough to cause…”
I covered my mouth. Marcus, who was leaning against the wall, swore loudly.
Olivia turned white. “She poisoned me?”
“Yes,” Arthur said. “Because of the trust fund clause. The heir only gains control of the company after the birth of his own child. Lucille didn’t want Gavin to be independent of her. She wanted to control the money through him.”
Olivia began to shake. “Did Gavin know?”
