I wiped my tears in a rush, but my swollen, red-rimmed eyes gave me away.

Homer crouched in front of me and reached up to brush his thumb beneath my eyes, his voice aching with tenderness. "Crying and refusing to eat. Who's been bullying my Penny?"

"The little one in my belly, of course."

Homer went still for a fraction of a second, then broke into what looked like stunned delight. "Really? I'm going to be a father?"

"Really."

My heart was a cold cellar, but for the sake of my child, I had no choice but to play along.

"Homer, what if... I'm just saying what if... you don't want this baby. I'll raise it on my own. I won't be a burden to you. Would that be all right?"

Something guarded flickered behind his eyes, but he forced a smile. "What are you talking about? How could I not love a child you gave me?"

"Come on, stop overthinking. Let's eat."

I looked at the table laden with dishes and turned my head away.

Homer picked up a piece of blanched greens with his chopsticks and set it in my bowl, his voice soft. "Just a few bites. The baby needs you to eat."

He looked so devoted. How could any of it be an act?

But I knew. All of it was a lie.

"I really can't..."

His patience snapped. "You won't eat, but the baby has to. Stop acting like a child!"

He seized my jaw, fingers digging in, and tried to force the greens into my mouth.

I wrenched free, but I understood his resolve now.

Despair closed over me like water. I blinked back tears and picked up my chopsticks. "I'll eat."

Once this meal was finished, everything would be over.

In the dead of night, the pain tore through my abdomen. Blood seeped from between my legs, spreading across the sheets in a slow, dark stain.

Homer called out toward the door, and Dr. Shepherd walked in at once, as though he had been waiting just outside.

The agony had blurred my vision, but I still heard Dr. Shepherd's careful, measured words: "My lord, the lady's previous miscarriage already damaged her body. If we don't intervene now, she may never conceive again."

Silence. Then Homer spoke. "It doesn't matter. Do as I told you. When I take a concubine someday and she bears children, I'll give one to Penelope to raise in her old age."

"Understood, my lord."

So it was true. He thought I was filthy. He had never wanted a child with me.

The last ember of hope inside me turned to ash.