Lucy emerged from her room, freshly showered and dressed in a soft silk robe, her hair wrapped up in a towel. The scent of lavender and honey trailed behind her as she padded barefoot across the polished marble floor of the Anderson mansion.
In her arms, swaddled in a blue blanket, was baby Andrew, the child she'd claimed, the one she was convinced would finally bind Ethan to her forever. She cradled him gently, rocking him with a mother's practiced rhythm, though her eyes were heavy with sleeplessness and paranoia.
She hummed lightly as she walked into the sunlit lounge, trying to appear like any proud new mother. But her fingers trembled slightly with each step. She sat down, adjusting the baby in her arms, brushing his soft, curly hair.
"You're mine now," she whispered, her voice almost manic with devotion. "No one is going to take you from me. Not Mara, not Valerie, not even Bella. She should've just stayed out of it."
