Tiffany looked at Julian pitifully, her eyes brimming with tears. “Why are you being so mean to Chloe? She’ll be jealous if you keep giving me all your attention.” Then she walked up to me and explained, “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have gotten sick and caused so much trouble. You’re even leaving the house now. I’m not as capable and strong as you. I don’t have any friends here. I don’t know what would have happened if Julian hadn’t helped me…” Suddenly, Tiffany clutched her chest dramatically, swaying like she might faint at any moment. Julian rushed to hold her steady, wrapping his arms around her protectively. Then he turned to me and said furiously, “Tiffany has already apologized. What else do you want from her?” From the safety of his arms, Tiffany peeked over his shoulder, her eyes glistening with unmistakable triumph. The image of my daughter’s coffin surfaced in my mind again. She was already a fully formed fetus. My nails dug into my palms. The sharp pain was the only thing keeping me grounded. “What’s wrong? Are all your friends dead that you’ve got no choice but to live in a married man’s home?” I asked. Julian slapped me hard across the face. The force of it sent me crashing to the ground. “Where are your manners? Chloe, apologize to Tiffany right now! I insisted she move in. Don’t drag her into this!” Glass shards from the broken frame bit into my palm as I hit the floor. Tiffany buried her face into his chest, letting out a soft gasp. “She’s bleeding. I’m scared.” Julian immediately soothed Tiffany. Not once did he glance in my direction. I pushed myself up from the floor, suppressing the pain radiating from my hand, and looked at the two of them. “Let’s get a divorce. The papers are on the table.” Julian froze, clearly shaken. He never thought I’d be the one to ask for a divorce.