Lost Baby, New Henry's Fury

I stood frozen in my bedroom doorway, staring at Mikayla sitting at my vanity. My diamond earrings—the ones Ashton had given me on our first anniversary—dangled from her ears as she admired herself in my mirror. Beside her lay my platinum necklace, the one my father had given me before I left home.

"What are you doing?" My voice came out steadier than I felt.

Mikayla's reflection smirked at me in the mirror. "Just borrowing some things for my dinner tonight. You don't mind, do you? Family shares everything."

My hands trembled as I stepped forward. "Those are my personal belongings. You can't just take them without asking."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic." She turned to face me, my earrings catching the light. "They look better on me anyway. Ashton always did have good taste in jewelry."

I reached for my necklace, but she snatched it away. "I'll return them tomorrow. Or next week. Whenever."

When I couldn't convince her to give them back, I found myself standing in front of Mrs. Coleman in the sitting room, explaining the situation with forced calm.

"She took my jewelry without permission," I said, trying to keep my voice level. "Those pieces have sentimental value."

Mrs. Coleman adjusted her pearl necklace, her eyes cold. "You're being petty and possessive, Alana. It's unbecoming."

"But they're mine," I insisted. "Personal gifts from Ashton and my father."

"Everything in this house belongs to the Coleman family," she replied, her tone clipped. "And Mikayla is family. You'd do well to remember that."

I touched my bare neck, feeling the absence of my mother's necklace that Mikayla had also taken. "I'd like my things back."

"Perhaps when you learn to share more graciously." Mrs. Coleman dismissed me with a wave of her hand. "Now, I have a charity committee call to make."

---

I found them in the library that evening—Ashton and Mikayla, heads bent close together over a book of poetry. My poetry book, the one where I'd scribbled notes in the margins about my feelings for Ashton when we first met.

"You used to say her eyes reminded you of twilight," Mikayla was saying, her finger tracing my handwriting. "Do you still think that?"

Ashton laughed softly. "I never thought you'd find this book."

"I was just organizing your office," she replied. "You know how I am with tidiness."

I stepped into the room, and they both looked up—Mikayla's expression guilty for half a second before settling into innocence.

"We were just reminiscing," she explained, closing the book.

Ashton didn't meet my eyes. "Mikayla was asking about our early days together."

"How sweet," I said, my voice hollow. "Sharing our private memories."

"Family shouldn't have secrets," Mikayla said, her smile sharp. "Besides, I know all about your little tradition of watching old black-and-white films on Sundays."

My stomach clenched. That was something Ashton and I had done alone, curled up on our couch with popcorn.

"And how you always wake up at exactly 6:17 AM," she continued, her eyes gleaming. "Even when you've had a late night."

I looked at Ashton, whose face had gone pale. Those were intimate details, private between us.

"I... I should finish packing for the gala," I mumbled, turning away.

Behind me, I heard Mikayla's voice drop to a whisper. "She's so easy to read, Ashton. Almost too easy."

---

The charity gala glittered with chandeliers and diamonds. I stood beside Ashton, my arm looped through his, trying to ignore the whispers that followed us.

"Alana looks tired," someone murmured.

"Poor thing," came the reply. "It can't be easy."

I smoothed my dress, wondering if I should have worn something more dramatic. But before I could dwell on it, Mikayla appeared beside us in a gown that mirrored mine—similar enough to be deliberate, different enough to seem coincidental.

"You both look wonderful," she said, her hand resting on Ashton's arm. "Like the perfect couple."

Before either of us could respond, she turned to address the crowd of socialites gathering nearby.

"I wanted to thank everyone for coming tonight," she announced, her voice carrying across the room. "Especially as we celebrate such an important time for the Coleman family."

She squeezed Ashton's arm possessively. "I'm so excited to help expand the Coleman family in new directions. There's nothing more precious than blood ties."

The room fell silent, all eyes darting between us. Mrs. Coleman appeared at Mikayla's side, beaming with pride.

"To family," Mikayla toasted, raising her champagne glass.

"To family," the crowd echoed.

I stood frozen, my smile plastered on as Ashton failed to correct her, failed to clarify that I was his wife, that any expansion of the Coleman family would come through me.

As the crowd dispersed into whispers and sidelong glances, I caught fragments of their conversations.

"...always thought there was something odd..."

"...the way she follows him around..."

"...poor Alana, doesn't even realize..."

My fingers found my wedding ring, twisting it round and round as Mikayla's laughter rang out across the ballroom, bright and victorious.