Eva's heart was a tempest of emotion, each thrum mirroring the chaos swirling within her mind. Adrian, the father of the child she carried, had to know about its existence. Yet, what loomed darker than the truth was the fear that gripped her—fear that his response would lead to a cold, calculated demand for her to terminate the pregnancy. Over the past few nights, her sleep had been shattered by vivid dreams that left her drenched in cold sweat, each scene a stark reminder of her turmoil. “Since yesterday, you’ve been acting strange,” Adrian said, his voice laced with concern. He probed further, "You’re sick, yet you refuse both medicine and injections. If something's troubling you, just tell me." Eva felt the weight of his gaze, searching for her truth, but her mind was a maze of conflicting thoughts. Just as she was about to form a response, a servant entered the room bearing food, granting her a momentary reprieve. The plate was filled with light fare, tailored for her ailing body. Yet, the appearance of food did little to cultivate her appetite; she nibbled absentmindedly, then abandoned the bowl, pushing it aside. The servant, quick to collect the remnants of her meal, noticed the tension radiating from Adrian. His jaw was set tight, and an air of unease seemed to envelop him. Something was indeed amiss with Eva, and the more he contemplated it, the restlessness in his gut intensified. Seeking respite, he turned and left the room, a decision that only deepened the silence enveloping her. As twilight draped the world in shadows, the servant returned with a bowl of medicine—an unwelcome visitor. Eva’s resolve crumbled. “I don’t want to drink it. Please, do not bring me any more medicine in the future,” she asserted with a firmness that startled the servant, who blinked in confusion before retreating from the bedroom. With the door clicking shut behind her, the quiet of the room crashed down on Eva like a heavy blanket. Alone once more, she couldn’t shake the hollow feeling where Adrian's presence should have been. A myriad of memories washed over her—ones that echoed the time she had saved him. But such reflections were tainted with an insidious question: had her sacrifice changed their fate? Yet, there were no answers, only fading hopes. As sleep reclaimed her in a rush, the night slipped by, and halfway through, she sensed the bed shift beside her. His return? But the fleeting thought was swallowed by darkness as slumber took her deeper. Morning light crept in, weaving through the curtains when Eva awoke again. Rolling over, she instinctively reached out—only to be met by the cold emptiness beside her. Disappointment knotted her insides, drawing her lips into a thin line, dimming the spark in her eyes. Breakfast approached with the servant carrying a tray, accompanied once again by that dreaded bowl of medicine. The sharp herbal scent wafted through the air, twisting her stomach. “Mrs. Blackwood, this medicine…” the servant began, but Eva cut her off, weariness stripping away her usual gentleness. “I’ve told you already—I don’t want it. Why has it returned?” Seeing the servant stunned into silence, guilt washed over her, and she softened. “I apologize. I’m unwell... Please take it back.” The servant nodded, retreating downstairs with the bowl cradled in her hands. In the kitchen, the butler’s brow furrowed as he observed the untouched medicine being returned. “Mrs. Blackwood refuses to take the medicine again?” he inquired. The servant relayed the events, noting a reluctant annoyance in her voice. The butler frowned. “She has always shown kindness to you. It’s likely just her illness making her irritable. Don’t hold it against her.” A moment later, a voice cascaded through the doorway, chilling the air. “She refuses to take the medicine?” Both the butler and the servant froze, turning to find Adrian standing rigidly, his suit impeccably fitted, car keys dangling from his fingers. He had already had his breakfast and was preparing to leave when the sight of the rejected medicine had stopped him in his tracks. “Yes, Mr. Blackwood,” the butler confirmed, but as he was about to relay more, he hesitated, his mind racing back to the unaddressed concerns about Eva’s health. “What is this medicine for?” he asked cautiously. “It’s for reducing fever,” Adrian replied, his expression unchanging. Relief washed over the butler at the simplicity of it—just fever medicine. But beside them, the servant’s surprise bubbled to the surface. “So, it’s just fever medicine? I thought it was…” She stumbled over her words as Adrian's intense gaze swung toward her, suspicion etched on his face. “What do you mean?” The weight of his penetrating stare compelled the servant to lower her gaze. “I… I’m not entirely certain. I noticed something resembling a hospital report in the bathroom waste yesterday. It was torn, soaked as if it had seen rain. I only caught a glimpse of the word ‘report’ while cleaning.” Adrian’s eyes narrowed with intrigue. “What report?” Her answer was a mere shake of the head. “I couldn’t tell—it was torn into fragments.” His heart raced. “Where is that report?” An unsettling intuition pulsed through him, convincing him that the remnants of that report could be the key to unveiling the secret that shrouded Eva’s life.