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CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY-NINE

RICHARD’S POV

Dinner was quiet tonight. Too quiet. Amelia had barely touched her food, just pushing it around on her plate with this distant look in her eyes. I asked her if she was alright, and she’d just given me a tired smile and said she was fine. But something didn’t sit right. Still, I let it go, figuring she’d open up when she was ready.

Upstairs, I lay on the bed waiting while she went into the bathroom. She closed the door behind her, and I stretched out, hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling. The day had been long, and I was looking forward to nothing more than a quiet evening with her, maybe watch some dumb movie and unwind.

But then I heard it—a loud voice cutting through the silence, sharp and strained. It was Amelia. A cry, filled with pain.

I sat up so fast, my heart instantly in my throat. “Amelia?” I called, already on my feet and moving towards the door. There was no answer, only a muffled groan that sent my pulse skyrocketing.

“Amelia, are you okay?” I ask
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