"Where's your breeding? Where's the poised, elegant Henson heiress? Three years in the countryside and this is what you've become?" His lip curled. "It's disgusting."
Disgusting.
I lowered my head, numb, and stared at the dark stain spreading across my skirt.
I'd lost control again.
Five miscarriages in three years had left my body irreparably broken. The medical care in Hollow Creek Village was nonexistent. There were a few unlicensed country doctors, sure, but Kathy and Ivan would never have spent a cent on me.
I pressed my lips together until they went white, enduring their shrill, exaggerated laughter.
"Enough. Enough..."
The words fell from my mouth, barely audible.
They were the reason I was like this. Every last bit of it was their doing.
And yet they doubled over laughing, unable to stop, feeding off each other's cruelty.
My fists clenched at my sides. Then I raised my head, slowly, and the numbness in my face hardened into something else entirely.
My gaze swept the room, cataloging everything within reach, until it landed on a porcelain vase on the side table.
The next second, the vase shattered over Rebecca's skull.
"Still funny?"
Rebecca swayed, stunned. Her hand went to her head. When she pulled it away and saw the blood coating her fingers, a piercing scream ripped from her throat.
"She's trying to kill me! Marina's trying to kill me!"
Her eyes rolled back, and she crumpled to the floor.
Jacob stood frozen, the color draining from his face. It took him a long moment to react. When he finally did, he rounded on me with a guttural snarl.
"You psycho!"
He looked at the blood streaming from Rebecca's head, his face chalk-white. He scooped her up and bolted for the door.
"It's okay, Rebecca, I'm taking you to the hospital right now..."
He was so frantic he nearly forgot to turn back. At the threshold, he whipped around, his voice shaking with rage. "This isn't over. I'll deal with you later."
I watched his retreating figure, unblinking.
"That's right. I've lost my mind."
"And now it's this madwoman's turn to come for you. Every last thing you owe me."
The vase had split Rebecca's scalp wide open. The wound was deep. I heard later it took over a dozen stitches to close.
Jacob's face was stone-cold. He'd sent over a dozen bodyguards to drag me to the hospital, and they shoved me to a stop right outside Rebecca's room.