To steal my unborn baby, my mother-in-law cornered me with a forged notice of my husband’s death. “You have no one left to protect you,” she sneered, forcing custody papers into my hand. But as I backed away, the front door burst open, and a voice she never expected to hear shouted…
break. Who do you think they will believe? The esteemed Victoria Vance, or the hysterical, unpedigreed widow?”
I sat frozen, both hands wrapped protectively around my stomach. The heat was agonizing. I looked at the pen. I looked at the iron. The sheer, overwhelming reality of my powerlessness crushed down on me. I was going to lose my child.
