Avery watches Evan from across the room. His back is tense, and his shoulders raised. Everything about his posture radiates anger. He's whispering into his phone, and Avery desperately wishes she could hear the conversation.

"Robert," Avery calls.

Robert comes trotting over, "Yes, Mrs. Howel?"

Avery lowers her voice, keeping one eye on Evan as she talks. "So Evan acted cold to me because he was afraid of angering his grandfather?" she asks.

Robert glances guiltily at Evan. He hesitates, and Avery fixes him with her most intimidating stare. "It was something like that," Robert says, looking down at his feet.

"That's what I thought," Avery says. "But I want to know how his grandfather was threatening him: was he using Diana or me?"

Robert's face pales. "You know about Diana?" he asks.

"Of course," Avery says casually. The more Robert thinks she already knows, the more willing he seems to answer her questions. She continues, "For example, I know that Francis Howel was using Diana to blackmail Evan into getting me pregnant."

Robert shuffles his feet and blinks his eyes. He looks over at Evan and clears his throat, but Evan doesn't notice him—he's too busy talking on the phone.

"Do you know why Francis Howel insisted Evan have a baby with me?" Avery asks. "I mean, I know he desperately wants an heir, but why did he insist on me? There are thousands of women who'd be more than willing to have a Howel child."

Robert shrugs and shakes his head helplessly. "I don't know," he says.

Avery purses her lips. He seems to be telling the truth, but she doubts he's as clueless as he seems. No one knows more about the Howel family than Robert.

"I'm going to ask again: is Francis threatening Evan with Diana or with me?" Avery asks.

If he's threatening Evan with me, I need to be more careful, Avery thinks. I don't want Evan to suffer just because danger seems to follow me everywhere I go. If he can't distance himself from me, maybe I have to distance myself from him. The thought sends shivers of panic running down her spine.

Robert sighs heavily. "As you know, Mr. Howel is the only heir right now," Robert says. "If anything happens to him, the entire family line will come to an end. Mr. Howel cares more about you than he's ever cared about anyone else. You're his greatest weakness.

When you're in danger, Mr. Howel stops thinking clearly. He'll do anything to save you, and I truly believe he'd die for you. Of course, this worries Mr. Francis Howel; he feels that you're uhh a bad influence. Evan was trying to trick his grandfather into thinking you're on bad terms in the hopes that his grandfather would stop worrying about your relationship."

Avery wants to run across the room and shower Evan with kisses. Robert's words ring in her head. Evan cares more about me than anyone else, she thinks joyfully. She doesn't realize she's smiling until Robert coughs awkwardly.

The joy vanishes, and she's forced to think about the situation. Francis Howel doesn't make empty threats, and Evan is probably in a much more dangerous position than Robert will admit.

"It's all my fault," Avery whispers. "I seem to attract danger like a magnet."

She looks down at the bandages on her chest, and the bruises on her arms, and absently runs her hand over the stitches on her abdomen.

"Perhaps you can be a bit safer in the future," Robert suggests. "Don't go running around so much, and try to stay away from dangerous people." He smiles sarcastically, "At least until the child is born."

Avery frowns. Until the child is born, she thinks. But who knows what will happen to me when the child is born: I may not live past birth. She chews her lip and rubs her aching temples. She wants to ask one of the doctors about the flashbacks she had—are they a symptom of increased doses of the toxin or a sign that she's slowly healing and recovering her lost memories—but she knows that only one doctor can answer her. And Charles has vanished.

"Are you all right?" Evan asks.

Evan's face seems completely carefree, and he smiles easily at her. He reaches out to tug affectionately on her earlobe, but she pulls away. He glances between her and Robert, and his forehead wrinkled with suspicion.

"I've just gotten a message saying Miss Summers is awake," Robert said, his voice sounding a bit too cheerful.

"Let's go upstairs and have a visit," Evan says with a heavy sigh.

He takes Avery's hand in his, but she pulls away.

"My palms are sweaty," she says.

"I don't care," Evan says, retaking her hand.

Leonie leans listlessly against the pile of pillows. Her mother rushes around the room, adjusting flowers and tugging on the curtains. The woman seems flighty. She wrings a hot towel to wipe Leonie's face and then drops it to change the TV channel.

"Leonie dear, would you like some apples?" Fiona Summers asks.

"No, mom," Leonie sighs.

"Are you feeling unwell again?" Fiona asks as she speaks little worry lines from around the corners of her mouth. "Mr. Howel went too far. I just don't understand how he refuses to recognize his own child. It's outrageous!"

Leonie groans and tosses around in the bed and her mother's voice was shrill and grating, and she wishes the woman would just leave her alone.

"Oh, don't you worry yourself about it, dear," Fiona says. "I'll talk to Evan's grandmother for you, and we'll sort it all out. Men can be so stubborn sometimes, but you just trust me. Though, I swear if I see that Avery woman, I'll slap her across the face. I don't care that she's Evan Howel's legal wife—no one gets to treat my precious baby like that."

"Mom, can you just shut up already," Leonie snaps.

"Yes, of course, dear. I'm sorry," Fiona says, passing Leonie a peeled apple.

Leonie looks at the apple slices and knocks the plate to the ground. She watches her mother bend to pick up the broken shards. Someone coughs by the door, and she looks up to see Evan leading Avery into the room. Evan has some blood on his neck, but he's holding Avery's hand tightly.

"What are you doing here?" Fiona says. "You should feel ashamed to show your face here after what you did to my daughter!"

"Mom—shut up," Leonie hisses, tugging the sleeve of Fiona's sweater.

She looks pleadingly at Evan, but his eyes are cold and distant. He's subconsciously stepped in front of Avery, shielding her body with his. Leonie clenches her hands into fists and tries to control her rage.

"Since we're not welcome, we'll leave," Evan says.

"No, Evan, wait," Leonie shouts.

Evan ignores her and opens the door for Avery. He follows her out of the room, gently skimming his hand over her lower back. The intimate gesture brings tears of helpless jealousy to Leonie's eyes.

"Rest well, Miss Summers," Robert says. "Mr. Howel will come to see you again sometime."

Leonie punches the soft quilt on the bed. Then she reaches for the vase of lilies on her nightstand and throws them toward the door. Glass and petals rain down on the floor.

"You'll regret this," she screams. "You'll all regret this. I swear you'll suffer ten times for everything you've ever done for me."

The elevator dings and Evan protectively steps in front of the sliding doors. Avery chews her lip and wonders how she can persuade him to relax. If his grandfather sees him acting like this, he'll go mad with anger. Instead of a threat, two young girls in candy striper uniforms try to hand them shiny leaflets.

Evan ignores them, so they turn to Robert and Avery. Avery politely accepts the leaflet, ready to toss it into her bag as soon as the volunteers stop looking at her.

"It's a great opportunity," one of the volunteers said. "Expectant mothers and fathers can really benefit from these classes."

"Expectant mothers and fathers?" Evan asks.

"Yes, many young fathers and mothers don't actually know that much about caring for a newborn," one of the volunteers said. "When the baby comes, they feel overwhelmed. You'd be surprised how much work goes into caring for a little baby. This class helps teach you the essentials, so you're prepared when the time comes. In addition, we can use a state of the art software to predict what your baby will look like. Lots of mothers and fathers are eager to see."

"Can we go?" Avery asks immediately.

She doesn't care that much about the class, but she wants to see the photos. She desperately wants to see what the baby will look like. This might be my only chance to see my child's face, she thinks.