Walking along the path of Home Farm Estate, Shauna Covington's shoes crunched softly beneath her feet. The early fall air remains crisp, and the oaks and maples framed the sky with their radiant oranges, reds, and golds, a quiet beauty she usually found comforting. But today, she barely noticed it.

The mansion stood tall in the distance, its façade timeless and grand, surrounded by lush greenery that framed the estate in elegance. A sprawling multi-car garage sat to the side, while a guest house nestled in the far corner of the property and the fountain near the front entrance dispensed softly in the afternoon light. 

Her long beige herringbone coat, draped over a casual navy-blue shirt and blue jeans, rustled gently in the cool breeze. She pulled it tighter around her, as though the warmth of the fabric could offer some clarity. The last of her morning sickness had faded, yet the heaviness of her secret was heavier than ever.

In the process of transforming Home Farm, Shauna found herself unexpectedly falling in love with Max. What began with her simply tolerating his trademark sarcasm had softened into easy conversations, shared laughter, and eventually, something deeper. Before she knew it, they were married, building a life together within the walls she’d helped shape.

But life had a way of unraveling the most carefully planned routine plans. What should’ve been the happiest time of their lives—expecting their first child—had taken a tragic turn. The accident had changed everything. Max’s paralysis was devastating enough, but the loss of their unborn child had shattered them both. The grief had been unbearable, and with it came a darkness neither of them knew how to navigate.

Their marriage, once so full of promise, had become fraught with tension. Max, once her rock, had retreated into a shell of anger and resentment. The worst fight they’d ever had erupted one night, words spilling out in jagged edges, cutting deep into wounds still fresh. She had felt lost, abandoned, unsure if they’d ever find their way back to each other.
That was when she’d turned to Antoine.

She places a hand on her still flat stomach, knowing it wouldn’t stay that way for long. That night, in her moment of weakness, she hadn’t used her head—she’d lost all composure, letting herself fall into the arms of someone who wasn’t her husband. It had been a single, desperate moment. A mistake. And now, she is carrying Antoine’s child.

But she had made her bed, and now she was living in the aftermath. But what would she do now? Telling Max the truth—it was the only way, but the thought of it terrified her. How could he possibly understand? After everything they’d been through, after the loss of their child and his sense of identity, how could she tell him that she was pregnant and that it wasn’t his?

She shakes her head, her feet scuffing against the gravel path as she resumes walking.

Shauna glances down again at her stomach, her hand lingering as if trying to hold onto some sense of control. Soon, there would be no hiding it. Time was running out, and the truth would have to come to light.

Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of her secret pressing down on her shoulders. She had to make a decision soon—she couldn’t keep carrying this burden in silence. But the fear of losing Max forever, of pushing him further away when they were already so fractured made her chest tighten.

"I don't know what to do," she mutters, the words barely audible as they were carried off by the wind. But no matter how she tried to steady herself, the path ahead seemed more uncertain than ever.