A nurse near the doorway went rigid, but I lifted one finger, asking her not to step in.

Dominic took my restraint for surrender.

“You always acted like you were something special,” he went on. “But you’re nobody, Audrey. No parents. No family. No career since you got pregnant. I’m handing you a clean break.”

Natalie leaned in closer, her perfume flooding the sterile room. “Don’t make this embarrassing. Stress is bad for fragile little babies.”

I looked at her hand on my coat, then at Dominic’s smug face. Three years earlier, he’d proposed after hearing I’d inherited “a little trust” from distant relatives.

I had let him believe it was modest. My grandfather had insisted on it.

“People show you who they are when they think you have nothing,” he’d warned me.

I opened the folder.

Dominic’s smile stretched wider.

The agreement handed him the apartment, the cars, the furniture, and full ownership of his medical-supply company. In return, he waived any responsibility for my debts and offered nothing beyond the bare legal minimum.

He’d even misspelled Chloe’s name. I signed every marked page.

Natalie let out a soft, mocking laugh. “That was easier than I expected.”

I closed the folder, handed it back, and picked up my phone.

Dominic turned toward the door. “Go call a shelter.”

“I’m calling my grandfather.”

He stopped.

I pressed the private number only four people had.