Later that night, Luca appeared beside my hospital bed carrying fresh flowers and an icy expression. “Tell them you lost your balance, Jessi,” he whispered, leaning closer. “We can still be a family.”
I touched my stomach and felt my daughter kick against my palm. Then I looked at the man who had almost killed us both.
“I remember,” I said.
His smile disappeared. But I did not tell him what else I remembered...
EIGHT MONTHS PREGNANT, I REFUSED TO GIVE MY LATE FATHER’S HOUSE TO MY HUSBAND—SO HE SHOVED ME INTO A BOILING STOCKPOT
