Fearing the worsening condition of baby Lucille, William and Mary Jane rushed her to the nearest hospital for immediate treatment.
In the waiting area, both sat in silence — equally anxious, equally exhausted, but thinking very different things.
Mary Jane asked softly, "When did Genevieve start acting like this?"
"I don't know," William whispered, his voice low, as if shielding his wife's shortcomings. "Even I… I'm confused by her now."
Mary Jane sighed. "William… just so you know, there's no history of mental illness in our family. But what's happening to Genevieve?"
William looked up, startled. "What do you mean?"
"Forget it," she deflected. "But if Genevieve doesn't want the child… maybe she should give her up. Or let me raise her."
William fell silent. He knew Mary Jane had been the one truly caring for Lucille. Her words echoed the warning Dr. Andrews had once given him — not all mothers respond the same way after childbirth.
"I don't understand," Mary Jane continued, shaking her head. "Postpartum depression is real, but Genevieve… she's beyond that. She's like a stranger now."
Before she could say more, the doctor emerged.
"Doctor, how's my daughter?" William asked, standing quickly, worry etched into his face.
"Good thing you brought her in when you did," the doctor replied. "Otherwise, she might not have made it. Let's talk in my office."
Mary Jane gasped. "What do you mean, Doctor?"
Inside the doctor's office.
"Mr. Frost," the doctor said gravely, "your daughter is malnourished and underweight. It's clear she's been neglected. Has your wife been taking the medication I prescribed?"
William hesitated. "Doctor… it's complicated."
Mary Jane stepped in. "I'm Genevieve Frost's sister."
"What's really going on with the child?" she asked, her hands trembling.
"Based on her symptoms, she suffered a febrile seizure. If not treated early, it could lead to epilepsy."
"What?" they both exclaimed.
"She's had a fever for three days," the doctor continued, voice firm. "And she was left untreated."
William turned pale. He couldn't find the words to explain.
"This is negligence," the doctor said. "But out of compassion, I'll let it go today. If anything happens again — I'll file a formal complaint myself."
They left the office in silence. Mary Jane caught a glimpse of William's bowed head — the weight of his guilt pressing down.
That afternoon, back home.
Genevieve greeted them with fury.
"Of course, William!" she shouted. "You always put that child before me! You know I need to eat at the right time to take my meds!"
William said nothing. Mary Jane stood nearby, trying to contain her anger.
"You're unbelievable," Mary Jane snapped.
Genevieve laughed bitterly when she saw her younger sister. "Why are you still here? Didn't I tell you to leave? You're shameless! You seduced my husband! You stole my child's affection — now you want her too!"
Mary Jane froze, tears welling in her eyes. "Stole? Genevieve, do you hear yourself? I've been the one caring for your daughter. And now I'm the villain?"
"Don't act innocent!" Genevieve screamed. "You're worthless! If it weren't for your mother, my father wouldn't have left mine!"
Mary Jane's rage erupted. She slapped her sister. "How dare you say that! My mother — she helped your drug-addicted mother survive! Without her, you wouldn't even be here!"
Genevieve fell silent. She knew it was true.
Each word hung heavy in the air, each breath laced with wounds. William realized the growing rift between the sisters — a fracture no blood or time could heal.
And for Genevieve, memories returned — the child she once was, fed by a stepmother she resented; the girl who grew up jealous of a sister she saw as a rival for their father's love.
Outside, neighbors could hear the shouting and crying. The once-respected Frost family was becoming the talk of the town.
That night.
Mary Jane quietly packed her things.
She made a phone call.
"Where are you going?" asked a voice on the other end.
"I'm leaving. Amsterdam next month," she replied, cold and emotionless.
"What about your sister?"
"They'll be fine," she lied, before ending the call.
Meanwhile, at the office of Atty. Raymond Gere.
He answered a call from his wife, Vivian Kelly.
"If that's really what you want, I can't stop you," Raymond said, stunned by her decision.
"I'm sorry, Raymond," Vivian replied. "I tried. But it's over."
"The divorce papers will arrive soon," she added.
Raymond paused. "What about Tristan?"
"He'll stay with me for the school year," she said. "But you can visit. I still want him to know you're his father."
"Thank you, Vivian," Raymond said quietly, before hanging up.
When the call ended, silence remained — in William's home, and in Raymond's office.
Two men, both facing separation. Both unraveling from the fractures caused by the people they once loved.