The bright daylight poured through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the grand mansion, reflecting off the polished white marble floor[cite: 1]. Evelyn sat helplessly in her wheelchair, her hands clutching her pregnant stomach beneath her beige silk robe[cite: 1]. She was six months pregnant, and her breath hitched as her mother-in-law, Beatrice, stood over her with a terrible, icy look in her eyes[cite: 1]. Beatrice, dressed in an expensive black designer dress, held a heavy glass of dark liquor tightly in her wrinkled hand[cite: 1].
Beatrice: Drink it!
Evelyn: No! Beatrice, please... it will hurt the baby!
Beatrice: You don't get to tell me no in my own home!
Evelyn: Please, stop! I'm carrying your grandchild!
Beatrice grabbed Evelyn's chin with a force that pinched her skin, jamming the edge of the glass against her lips[cite: 1]. The strong, bitter liquid sloshed over Evelyn's mouth and down her neck as she fought to keep her mouth closed, gasping for air[cite: 1].
Beatrice: Open your mouth, you little gold-digger!
From down the hall, a young maid in a gray uniform named Clara came running toward them, tears streaming down her face[cite: 1].
Clara: Stop! She didn't do anything wrong!
Beatrice: Get back, you useless servant!
Before Clara could reach them, Beatrice placed both hands on the side of the wheelchair and forcefully shoved it sideways[cite: 1]. The metal frame tipped over with a loud, echoey crash against the hard floor[cite: 1]. Evelyn fell violently onto the marble, her body hitting the stone with a sickening thud[cite: 1]. A glass on the nearby side table shattered into a hundred pieces, scattering sharp shards and spilled wine all over her scattered ultrasound papers[cite: 1].
Evelyn: Oh! My baby... my baby!
Beatrice: That will teach you to stay in your place!
Evelyn groaned in agony, crawling on her knees across the cold floor while trying to shield her stomach[cite: 1]. In total desperation, she reached her trembling hand upward, grabbing onto the bottom of Beatrice's black dress[cite: 1].
Evelyn: Please... hold her...
Suddenly, the heavy double wooden doors at the front of the mansion swung wide open[cite: 1]. Standing on the threshold was Julian, dressed in a sharp double-breasted gray suit and holding a leather briefcase[cite: 1]. He took two steps inside before freezing in complete shock[cite: 1]. His briefcase slipped from his hand and hit the floor as he stared at his pregnant wife collapsed beside the broken glass[cite: 1]. Beatrice turned her head sharply, her face twisting into sheer terror as her voice caught in her throat[cite: 1].
Julian: Mother?