The night I returned early from a business trip and found my pregnant wife lying in darkness, her silk nightgown on backward and the floor covered with shattered glass and dark stains, an icy feeling passed through me before I could even make sense of the scene.

The next morning brought no sleep, only a grim, gray dawn that filtered through the hospital blinds. Lily’s condition remained stable, but she slept deeply, heavily sedated to keep her uterus from contracting.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. The caller ID showed a number I didn't want to see. My mother, Eleanor.

I stepped out of the room to answer it, my voice tight. "Mother."

"Adam, darling. I called your office and they said you returned early. Why didn't you let me know? I would have had the cook prepare something for you," she said, her voice dripping with its usual aristocratic poise.

"Lily is in the hospital, Mother," I said bluntly, cutting through her pleasantries.

A sharp intake of breath on the other end. "Oh. What happened? Is it... the baby?"

"She had a placental abruption. She almost bled to death on our bedroom floor," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. "And she has bruises on her arms. Someone was in our apartment, Mother. Someone attacked her."

There was a long, heavy silence on the line. When Eleanor spoke again, her voice had lost its warmth, replaced by a defensive stiffness. "Well. That is terrible, of course. But Adam... you must consider the company she keeps. I told you before, that girl has a past. Her family... those people she left behind in Ohio. Are you sure this wasn't some sordid business catching up to her?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I hissed, stepping deeper into the quiet hallway.

"I did some checking, Adam. Before you married her. Her brother, Marcus. He’s a gambler, a debtor. He’s been in and out of trouble for years. I warned you that bringing someone from that background into our family would only bring ruin."

My mind spun. Marcus. Lily had told me her brother was estranged, that they hadn't spoken in years because of his destructive habits. She had cut him out of her life to protect herself, to protect the life we were building.

"Did you contact him, Mother?" I demanded, a horrifying suspicion taking root. "Did you search him out?"

"Of course not! Why would I drag such filth into our orbit?" Eleanor snapped. "But perhaps he found her. Perhaps she’s been helping him behind your back. Think about it, Adam. The backward nightgown, the broken wedding photo... she was hiding something from you. She was terrified of you finding out."

"Stop it!" I snarled, the fury finally boiling over. "Do not speak another word about my wife. If I find out you had anything to do with this—if your constant meddling drove her to this point—I will never look at you again."