Edith was bfound /bunconscious bin /bbthe /brestroom by one of the hospital’s janitors.

bWhen /bshe finally bcame /bbto/bb, /bshe was lying on a crisp, clean hospital bed. A nurse, bexpression /bcool band /bbclinical/bb, /bstood by with a chart in hand. “You’ll need to get in btouch with /bbyour /bfamilyb,/b” she said. “Someone has to bring you a change of clothes- bStaring /bup bat /bbthe /bceiling, Edith replied tlyb, /b“My husband’s dead. My sister–inw is pregnantb, /band bthe /bwhole family’s fussing over her. No one has time for me.b” /b

bOnly /bthen did ba /bflicker of pity cross the nurse’s bface/b. She let out a sigh and said, “Waitb, /bbI’ll /bgo get you something.”

When the nurse returned, she was chatting with a coworker, voices carrying gossip down the hall. “You won’t believe the mother–inw I just met in the ER,” the other nurse was saying. “Her oldest son’s wife is pregnant, the younger son’s wife won’t pick up the phone and doesn’t even bother to check in–no manners at all. And the son? He’s hovering over his wife like she’s made of ss. He even tastes the water before letting her drink it, as if we don’t know how to do our jobs…”

Edith reached for her phone, only to find it dead–out of battery and powerlessb, /bjust like she felt.

She could guess well enough: the “rude younger daughter–inwi” /ithey were talking about was her.

After changing into the new trousers the nurse had bought, Edith handed over some cash and thanked her before making for the exit, eager to slip away from the hospital and the whole mess behind her.

But just as she left her room, she ran right into her mother–inw, who was standing outside Salome’s room, phone in hand and clearly about to call Edith again.

Her mother–inw’s face was thunderous with anger and usation the moment she saw her. She grabbed Edith by the arm and marched her toward Salome’s room without so much as a greeting. “Where have you been? Not answering your phone! Your sister–inw is pregnant–how could you note check on her? You have no manners, no upbringing at all!”

Edith was scolded so thoroughly, it felt like she’d been doused with a bucket of cold water. Her mother–inw had always been difficult, but she’d never before dropped bthe /bpretense of civility sopletely. At least, she used to keep up appearances.

b15:05 /b

bWhy /bbthis /btimeb? /bbWhat /bbhad /bbchanged /bbto /bbmake her /bbmother/bb–/bbin/bb–/bbw /bso tantb? /b

bAfter /bbenduring /bbthe /bbtirade/bb, /bbEdith /bbnoticed /bbSalome /bblying in /bbbed/bb, /bba /bbsmug little /bbsmile /bbcurling /bbon /bbher /bblips/b.

bAt /bbfirst/b, bEdith /bbthought /bbshe /bmust be imagining things, but when Salome deliberately bsent /bbboth /bher bmother/b–inw and Beckett out on errands, Edith finally understood. bShe /bbhadn’t /bimagined it–and she finally saw why her mother–inw was acting so bshamelessly /bthis time.

Now it was just the two of them in the hospital room.

Salome arched an eyebrow, looking at Edith with open contempt. “Why did you call my husband when you had your period? You had him bring you pads to thedies‘ restroom? Don’t think I don’t see through your little schemes!”

Edith’s forehead was beaded with sweat from the pain, but–the physical ache was nothingpared to the sharp, hollow twist in her chest.

Back when she had her period, Beckett would drop everything, fussing over her, even rolling up his sleeves to make her caramel pudding from scratch–this spoiled son of the family who rarely touched a dish. Now, all she’d wanted was for Beckett to help her in a pinch, but suddenly her intentions were being twisted into something ugly.

Salome let out a cold, derisiveugh. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re after! You’ve always had a thing for Beckett. Isn’t it just because my husband and Beckett look alike? Now that your husband’s dead, you’re after mine? Dream on!”

Edith didn’t know whether tough or cry. Either way, it only left her feeling emptier.

She schooled her features into a nk mask and offered a cold, thin smile. “If you have time to fret about whether someone’s going to steal your husband, maybe you should worry more about keeping your baby safe. By the way, it was only thanks to the strings I pulled with Dr. White that you got this pregnancy in the first ce. Shouldn’t you be thanking me?”

Salome sneered. “Thank you? Why would I thank you? My husband and you made some deal, and you only helped out because you had no choice.”

Edith couldn’t be bothered to argue. There was no point in reasoning with someone bso /bwillfully rude..

Besides, none of this had been out of kindness; she’d been forced by the Vance family–mother and son both–trapped by their moral expectations. Salome’s gratitude was never the point.

b15:05 /b

She turned to leave, but Salome’s shrill voice stopped her. “Edith! Don’t you walk away from me! When your sister–inw speaks, you listen! I’m warning you–I know exactly what kind of skanky tricks you’re up to. Don’t think you can pull anything just because I’m pregnant. My husband may look like Beckett, but he’ll never be yours. If you dare ruin my happiness, I’ll haunt you to my gravel”

Edith shot Salome a cool, dismissive nce, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t want

Beckett, or Bet, or any of you. Frankly, you all make me sick.”