When I woke again, the sharp sting of antiseptic filled my nostrils.
My hand flew to my stomach, and I turned frantically to the side.
"Is anyone there? How's my baby?"
A warm hand gently patted the back of mine.
Josephine spoke softly. "The doctor said the baby is perfectly healthy. They want you to stay in the hospital and rest."
She paused. "But your hands, ma'am... the scars will probably be permanent."
Only then did I notice the thick layers of gauze wrapped around both hands. The slightest movement sent a searing pain straight to the bone.
Tears of lingering fear slid down my cheeks, and I let out a long, shaky breath.
Hurried footsteps echoed from the doorway.
Before I could even register who it was, someone seized me and hauled me off the bed.
"Joanna, if you had a problem with Stephanie, you could've just told me! Setting a fire to kill someone is a crime!"
"Do you have any idea she almost had a miscar—"
His furious tirade cut off abruptly.
I looked up in disbelief. Every ounce of physical pain paled against the agony tearing through my chest.
"You think I set that fire to burn her alive?"
Tears spilled like a broken string of pearls, falling one after another without end.
Six years. I had been by Dominic's side for six years, and in his eyes, I was nothing but a vicious, heartless woman.
My stomach clenched violently, and I winced at the cramping.
Dominic's grip on my arm didn't loosen. He dragged me toward the door.
"It doesn't matter who actually did it. All of this started because of you."
"Stephanie is terrified. She's emotionally unstable. You're going to apologize to her."
As he wrenched me forward, my hand slammed into the doorframe.
Every last drop of strength drained from my body. Dominic hauled me down the corridor like a rag doll, merciless, never once looking back.
The moment we crossed the threshold into Stephanie's room, I heard her pitiful sobbing.
Then the hospital bed rattled violently. Stephanie climbed down and dropped to her knees at my feet with a thud.
Her voice cracked with anguish.
"Joanna, I'll move out. I'll leave the house, I promise. Just please don't kill me, okay?"
Her long, sharp acrylic nails dug straight into my open wounds.
I flinched and tried to pull back, but a heavy crash echoed through the room.
A stinging slap blazed across my cheek. Dominic had struck me so hard I crumpled to the floor.