Downstairs in the living room, the three members of the Windsor family were deep in discussion about what to do with their eldest daughter when, suddenly, a piercing scream shattered the quiet from upstairs. All three jolted to their feet in alarm.
Before anyone could ask what was happening, Emma burst out from the hallway and, to their horror, tumbled straight down the staircase.
Chaos broke loose as everyone rushed over, panic etched on their faces.
“Emma! Emma!”
“Are you alright, Emma?”
“Call an ambulance! Someone dial 911!”
They hurried to where Emma lay crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, scrambling to lift her up, their voices overlapping with frantic concern.
Emma was already pale with terror, and now, after the fall, pain radiated through her body–most of all, a sharp ache deep in her abdomen.
Clutching her stomach, lips trembling, she could barely get the words out. “Mom… please, save–save my baby… Something’s wrong, it can’t-”
Before she finished, Baillie’s eyes widened in shock as she caught sight of the blood pooling beneath her sister. “She’s bleeding!”
Everyone’s gaze snapped to Emma; her nightgown was rapidly staining red.
Emma’s eyes went wide with horror, her whole body shaking harder. Tears streamed down her face as she wailed, “Mom–my baby, my baby-”
Everyone knew the risks during the first trimester, and after a fall like that, there was little hope.
Rosetta’s own tears started to fall as she gathered Emma into her arms. “Don’t be scared, sweetheart! We’re going to the hospital right now. Micah’s uncle knows the best OB–GYNs–we’ll do everything we can, okay? We’ll save your baby!”
Once Baillie had finished the call to 911, she finally had a moment to ask, “Emma, what happened? Why were you so frightened?”
At the question, Emma’s eyes filled with dread. She shakily pointed upstairs. “A snake–there was a snake! Ivy’s snake–it got into my room, onto my foot–l… ah!
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My stomach, it hurts-”
Adkins stared in disbelief. “Wasn’t that snake supposed to be in the housekeeper’s room? How did it get upstairs?”
While he tried
quarters. So make sense of it, Baillie had already dashed to the housekeeper’s
quarters. She found the cover of the clear terrarium askew. Yanking it off, she saw that the cage was empty.
“The snake’s gone!”
The thought of the snake slithering loose upstairs made both Windsor men shudder in fear.
“Call animal control! Tell them to get over here and kill that thing!” Adkins ground out, seething with fury at his eldest daughter. “Ivy! That girl–she’s going to be the death of us!”
Baillie dialed animal control.
But before they arrived, the ambulance pulled in, whisking Emma away.
Rosetta climbed in after her, hastily calling Micah and urging him to meet them at the hospital.
There would be no peace for the Windsor family tonight.
After dinner, Ivy should have been winding down for the evening. But she’d slept so much these past few days that, with her body slowly recovering, she was wide
awake now.
Besides, the stock market had been on a tear lately, with forums buzzing and everyone eager to share their gains. Ivy scrolled through posts, half–watching the chatter in her “Stonks Only Go Up” WhatsApp group. The mood was euphoric; everyone seemed to be making money.
She hadn’t been active in the group recently, thanks to her own health issues, but now someone tagged her, and she popped in to reply.
Bob: Just saw Mrs. Smith comment on the forum–still up this late? Take care of yourself, @Mrs. Smith.
Jay: Probably made too much profit to sleep!
Mrs. Smith: [laughs] Didn’t make much. Just reading for my exam and browsing the forums.
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Dale: Wait, Mrs. Smith is a student?
Mrs. Smith: Not really–just prepping for my securities licensing exam.
Dr. Handsome: @Mrs. Smith, are you seriously planning to become a professional trader?
The moment Dr. Handsome chimed in, everyone piled on.
Bob: What’s that supposed to mean? Are you two keeping secrets from us?
Dale: Yeah, sounds like you two have been chatting privately.
Staring at her phone, Ivy frowned. How was she supposed to explain this?
Not long ago, she’d messaged Dr. Handsome about finding a good gynecologist They’d chatted a bit more, and she’d joked that if she ever turned pro, she’d help him manage his portfolio. So yes, they’d spoken privately.
Still, did she really want to admit that to the group?
She hesitated, unsure how to reply, when a new message popped up from Dr. Handsome–this time, in a private chat.
Dr. Handsome: Sorry, I let that slip.
Ivy smiled, replying: No worries.
Then, in the group chat, she clarified: I wasn’t feeling well a few days ago and asked Dr. Handsome for some advice. We just chatted a bit, that’s all.
Bob: So you two are finally getting friendly, huh?
Coach Murphy: Don’t tell me you’ve already met up in person!
Dr. Handsome: We haven’t.
As the teasing ramped up, Ivy knew she needed to change the subject before things got out of hand.
Just as she was about to steer the conversation elsewhere, her phone buzzed again–an incoming call from the Windsor family.
Well, after three or four days, they finally remembered their forgotten daughter, huh?
Ivy hit decline without hesitation.
Back in the WhatsApp group, she kept the conversation moving: I’m optimistic about tech stocks, but consumer sectors look good for some short–term trades
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too–take profits when you can.
Dr. Handsome: With all the policy support, I think you can afford to be a bit bolder.
Ivy couldn’t help but laugh at that.
Mrs. Smith: @Dr. Handsome, with today’s rally, you didn’t pile in even more, did you? Dr. Handsome: Just a little.
Mrs. Smith: [laugh/cry emoji] My advice is to take your profits soon.
She’d just sent the message when a knock sounded at her door. Katrina burst in, breathless and urgent. “Ivy, something’s happened!”
