"Gerald," I said, my voice trembling, "Joanne admitted to killing my brother. You were right here, didn't you hear her? And when she ran into me, causing me to bleed out while carrying your child, why won't you even check the dashcam footage to confirm the truth?"
Joanne's eyes widened in shock, tears welling up as she looked at me in disbelief, "Eleanor, what are you saying? You're ... carrying Gerald's child?"
Her lips quivered as she continued, the picture of heartbreak, "No wonder you've always disliked me. You must have feared that my presence would affect your relationship with Gerald."
"If that's the case, Eleanor, I'll book a flight abroad right now. I'll agree to the arranged marriage my parents have planned for me and I swear I'll never appear in front of Gerald again in this lifetime!" With a forlorn glance at Gerald, she reluctantly pulled out her phone and pretended to search for a flight.
"Joanne, stop this nonsense! There's no way Eleanor is pregnant with my child!" Gerald's voice broke, revealing a trace of panic.
He wiped away Joanne's tears and for the first time, his gaze turned menacing, a side of him I'd never seen before.
"If you don't believe me," he said coldly, "I'll open up Eleanor's womb right here and show you whether or not she's carrying a child."
I stared at him, utterly speechless. I could never have imagined that he would go to such lengths for Joanne. As he stepped toward me, his face serious and resolute, terror gripped me.
Holding my belly protectively, I backed away, "Gerald, what are you doing? This is against the law!"
Pain pierced through my abdomen. The blood that had only just stopped began to flow again. In my dazed state, I recalled our last Christmas in college.
Gerald had placed a Santa hat on my head, lovingly tapping my nose as he joked about us having several children in the future, so Christmas would feel more festive.
He'd said, "Eleanor, what if we name our first child 'Sean'? You look stunning today, I want to commemorate it."
"Sean ... Sean ..." The name surfaced in my thoughts and before I realized it, I had muttered it aloud.
For the first time in a while, my child stirred, kicking softly as if begging for help. A faint glimmer of hope softened my despair.
"Gerald, I'm not lying," I pleaded. "If you don't believe me, feel my belly ... Sean is kicking me ..."