That night, after the long interrogation that left me drained and trembling, I finally leaned against the cold wall of my room., the faint echo of whispers outside, and the dull ache in my chest made it hard to breathe.

My mind kept replaying the moment—the gasps, the shouting, the look on Vincent’s face when everyone turned against me. He didn’t even say my name.

I thought it was finally over for the day, but a few hours later, the sound of shoes and keys echoed from the hallway. I heard a I ok sounds on my room door and quickly opened it . Two police officers entered, their expressions grave.

“Mrs. Markston,” one of them said curtly. “You’re coming with us.”

I blinked, confused. “What… what’s happening? I already answered all your questions.”

The other officer stepped closer, his tone sharp. “New evidence has surfaced. You’re being placed under formal arrest for the attempted murder of Old Patriarch Markston.”

Before I could process it, cold metal snapped around my wrists.

The shock froze me in place. “Wait, I didn’t— I didn’t do anything!” My voice trembled as tears stung my eyes. I tried to pull back, but the handcuffs bit into my skin. “Please, you’re making a mistake!”

They didn’t answer. The world around me blurred. Every sound— the clinking of chains, the shuffle of boots—felt distant.

I couldn’t even feel my legs as they led me out of the Markston family Mansion. My heart pounded in panic, but underneath it all was a new, colder fear clawing at my chest.

A while ago, I’d gone into the restroom, desperate to calm myself, but what I saw there had left me numb with terror—streaks of blood staining my underwear. My hands had trembled as I clutched the wall for support. “No, no, no… this can’t be happening.”

I had wanted to tell Vincent right there, scream his name and beg him to help me, but how could I? He barely looked at me anymore, only with cold, distant eyes filled with disbelief. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the baby—not when he already thought I was a monster.

By the time I reached the cell, exhaustion took over. I sat on the edge of the metal bench, clutching my coat around me, fighting back tears.

I had never felt so alone.

Hours passed before I heard familiar voices — distant but filled with tension.

The old matriarch.

Her presence filled the small room like a fragile light. Despite her frail body, her voice was firm when she spoke to Vincent, who had followed behind her.

“Vincent,” she said sharply, “how could you? That girl would never hurt your grandfather!”

He exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple

Grandmother, you weren’t there. The evidence, the witnesses—”

“Witnesses can lie!” she snapped. “And they often do when fear or greed is involved. I know that girl’s heart. Alice is loyal and kind. She cared for your grandfather more than anyone in this family.”

Vincent’s jaw tightened. “What do you know about Alice, Grandmother? You’ve been away from the mansion for nearly a year. You returned only for Grandfather’s birthday. You don’t know what she’s been doing.”

Her eyes filled with pain. “You think absence erases love? You think because I wasn’t in this house, I forgot what kind of person she is?”

Vincent turned his gaze away, cold and distant. “Then you tell me, why was her scarf at the top of the stairs? Why did the maid say she ran and came back pretending to see what happened?”

The matriarch’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Sometimes, Vincent, what you see isn’t always what’s true. And you — you of all people — should know that.”

But he didn’t respond. He just stood there, his silence sharper than any accusation.

When the matriarch was escorted out, I felt her hand briefly squeeze mine.

“Hold on, child,” she whispered softly. “The truth will find its way out.”

I wanted to believe her. But I was so tired. I just hoped Adrian would arrive soon, earlier I instinctively sent Adrian a message.

Hours later, the cell door opened again.

This time, it was Adrian.

“Alice,” he said, kneeling in front of the cell bars, gripping them tightly. “What did they do to you?

He slammed his fist against the bars. “They accused you of something you didn’t do! And Vincent—what is he thinking? You’re his wife!”

I flinched at his anger but forced a small, bitter smile. “He doesn’t believe me, Adrian. Maybe he never really did.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened. “Then he’s a fool.”

I hesitated, clutching my stomach unconsciously. My throat felt tight. I didn’t know how to say it—how to admit what terrified me the most.

“Adrian…” I whispered softly, almost breaking. “There’s something you need to know.”

He turned to me immediately, eyes full of worry. “What is it?”

I swallowed hard. “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, he froze. The words seemed to hang in the air like fragile glass about to shatter.

His voice softened instantly. “You’re… pregnant?”

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I nodded. “I didn’t want to tell anyone yet. But I—I saw blood earlier. I’m so scared, Adrian. I can’t lose them… I can’t.”

Adrian closed his eyes, exhaling slowly as if holding back a storm of emotions. “You won’t,” he said finally, his voice steady and resolute. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. You shouldn’t even be here in this state.”

He stood abruptly and called for the guard. His authority carried weight, and soon arrangements were made—better food, proper medical supervision, and no harsh treatment. His influence worked like a shield over me, even here although I knew Vincent had more power and influence than him but till it was enough.

The next day, when Vincent came by, his expression was unreadable. He looked at me, then at Adrian, who stood beside my cell with arms crossed.

“What are you doing here?” Vincent asked coldly.

Adrian turned sharply, eyes blazing. “I’m here because someone has to look after her. Since you clearly won’t.”

Vincent’s gaze darkened. “Don’t tell me how to handle my wife.”

“Wife?” Adrian scoffed, stepping closer. “You call her that after letting her stay in a cell? You couldn’t even look her in the eyes when she begged you to believe her!”

Vincent’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

Adrian’s voice hardened. “Stay out of this, CEO Vincent. I’ve hired the best lawyer I know. I’ll prove Alice’s innocence myself. You’ve done enough damage already.”

For a long moment, Vincent just stared at me. I sat quietly on the narrow bench, spooning the warm soup Adrian had managed to get for me. I didn’t look up.

If he truly believed I was innocent, he’d have said something—done something. But he just stood there, watching, before finally muttering, “Do whatever you want.”

And then he left, his figure disappearing beyond the iron door.

I held the spoon tightly, forcing myself not to cry. Everything inside me ached—my body, my heart, my hope.

The world outside continued moving, but for me, time stood still inside that cell.

I didn’t know if I would ever be free again. But for the life growing inside me, I had to stay strong.

I had to survive.