“I was out of line earlier. I’m sorry.”
“Honey, are you really going to make me sleep in the guest room? Please let me in. I want to hold you.”
The thought of this man, who had just been with Rebecca, now trying to get into her bed made her feel sick.
“I’m tired. We can talk tomorrow.”
“But honey, I haven’t held you in a week. Don’t you want me?”
Penelope almost gagged.
“You’re so good at listening to your parents. Why don’t you go sleep with them tonight?”
Silence followed from the other side of the door, then the sound of footsteps retreating.
Zebulon had a temper. In the past, whenever they disagreed, she had always been the one to give in. If they fought, she was usually the first to apologize. She had truly loved him.
What a joke that was now.
Penelope turned off the lights and closed her eyes, pretending to fall asleep.
Rebecca, however, remained cautious. It wasn't until the early hours of the morning that she finally crept out of the wardrobe. Her legs, stiff from being cramped for so long, nearly gave out from under her. She stifled a cry, hobbled to the door, and slipped out.
The moment the door clicked shut, Penelope’s eyes snapped open.
In the small sitting room downstairs, Mrs. Sullivan was helping Rebecca onto the sofa, tenderly massaging her legs.
“My poor girl, you’ve suffered so much. Who knew she would come back so suddenly?” Mrs. Sullivan said with a huff.
“I’m fine. Please don’t worry.” As she spoke, Rebecca rubbed her stomach, a pained expression on her face.
Mrs. Sullivan immediately grew anxious. “Is something wrong with the baby? Should we go to the hospital?”
“No, no, I’m fine. I just need a moment,” Rebecca said meekly.
“That Penelope is nothing but trouble! If anything happens to this baby, I’ll skin her alive!”
“Alright, now is not the time to provoke her,” Mr. Sullivan said from the opposite sofa.


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