The caller: Stella
Martin’s expression tightened. He stepped out of the car to take the call. []
Evelyn sat quietly, watching him talk with his back turned. When he returned, his voice was soft. []
“Evelyn, something came up. I’ll be back soon. You go ahead and get the report. Bring it back, okay?” []
His tone was gentle, like he was soothing a child. []
She didn’t argue, just nodded and got out of the car, watching him drive away. [
She hailed a taxi–not to the hospital, but to the Civil Affairs Bureau. []
Half an hour later, she returned to the villa with two fresh divorce certificates. []
She left Martin’s on the living room table and sent him a text. []
“I picked up the things. It’s on the table.”
He replied quickly, his tone warm. []
“Wait for me. Let’s check on the baby together.”
Evelyn smiled bitterly. She didn’t explain. Instead, she took out her SIM card, snapped it in half, and tossed it in the trash. [
Her bags were already packed. She grabbed her suitcase and walked out of the villa, pausing for one last look.
“Martin, we’re both free now.”
“Goodbye.”
She turned and left, never looking back. [
At the airport, Steve was waiting. He waved her over with a grin. [
“Evelyn! Over here!” [
She hurried to him. “Did you wait long?”
“Not at all.” He took her luggage, his voice softening. “Are you sure about this?” [
She pulled out the divorce certificate and nodded firmly. “I’m sure. No regrets.” [
“Then let’s go.”
They walked side by side, neither falling behind. []
Martin returned home that night to a dark, silent villa. []
“Evelyn?”
No answer.
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He turned on the lights, the emptiness unsettling him. He muttered about taking her shopping soon to fill the space. I
Remembering her text, he went to the living room. The table held no ultrasound–just a dark red booklet.
He picked it up, his heart sinking as he read the words: Divorce Certificate. []
“Playing tricks again, trying to scare me with things like this. But it looks pretty real,” he muttered, though his hand trembled. [
Chapter 9
He rushed upstairs, stopping at the bedroom door. His heart pounded as he hesitated. []
What if she’s gone? [
But how could she leave? She’d married him at 20, carried his child at 23. How could she suddenly leave him like this?
And he’d never signed any papers or been involved in any divorce proceedings. This had to be fake.
He pushed the door open. [
The room was spotless–and empty. [
The divorce certificate fell from his hand as he stumbled to the wardrobe. His fingers fumbled, but he finally yanked it open. [
Only his clothes remained. Hers were gone. [
A chill swept through him. He reached for his phone, his hands shaking so badly he could barely dial.
The call connected, but instead of Evelyn’s voice, he heard a cold automated message:
“The number you have dialed is not in service…” [
He picked up the divorce certificate, flipping it open. The stamped photo and registration number were unmistakable.
It was real.
And she was gone.]
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