Chapter 1

A sudden tremor hit downtown Chicago during the street festival.

The ground shook violently. Screams erupted around me.

I was eight months pregnant, standing frozen as a piece of scaffolding from a nearby construction site broke loose and tumbled down.

It struck me hard. A sharp, blinding pain shot through my back and abdomen.

Then, a warm gush of fluid soaked my jeans. My water broke.

I cried out, clutching my stomach, "Liam!"

My fiancé, Liam, was just a few feet away. He turned, his eyes wide with fear. But he wasn't looking at me. He was looking at Chloe, his young intern, who was stumbling beside him.

He lunged, not for me, but for her. He wrapped his arms around Chloe, shielding her from a shower of dust and smaller debris.

He saw me then. He saw my soaked pants, my face twisted in agony.

His own face twisted, but with disgust.

"That's so embarrassing!" he muttered, grabbing Chloe's hand. "Let's go."

He pulled her away, ignoring my desperate cries for help. He didn't even look back.

I collapsed onto the pavement as the world went dark.

Seven days later, I was discharged from the hospital. The baby was gone. A stillbirth, the papers said.

As I walked up to the apartment I shared with Liam, a UPS driver stopped me. "Package for this address."

I took it numbly. Inside was a small box. I opened it.

A positive pregnancy test.

My hand trembled as I held it next to my own hospital discharge papers. The two documents told two different stories. One of a new life, one of an ended one.

I pulled out my phone and made a call to the West Coast.

"Marcus," I said, my voice flat. "About that lead architect position for the new sustainable community project... I'm in."

"I can be in San Francisco by next Friday."