Six years. For six years I had done everything in my power to get pregnant.
I had choked down herbal remedies so bitter they made my eyes water, cup after cup, without complaint.
Zoey knew that.
Dale knew that.
And now they wanted me to kill this child.
"Dale, the baby I'm carrying isn't just mine. It's yours too."
Dale glanced at me. The disgust on his face was too raw to be faked.
For the first time, I wondered whether the last six years of tenderness had all been an act.
Then he opened his mouth, and I barely recognized the words coming out of it.
"Only Noreen is worthy of bearing my children."
The man standing in front of me was a stranger. How many nights had he clasped his hands together, praying for a child that was ours?
"I'll sign an agreement," I said. "The child will never make a single claim on the family's assets."
"God, you're pathetic." Noreen looked at me like I was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe. "Dale doesn't want you anymore, and you're still begging to have his baby."
"Absolutely shameless."
Zoey held the pills out to me. "Take them yourself, and we can all walk away with a little dignity."