I Was Just A Womb To Them, Now They'll Pay - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
You are reading I Was Just A Womb To Them, Now They'll Pay, Chapter 9: Chapter 9. Read more chapters of I Was Just A Womb To Them, Now They'll Pay.
Someone tried to warn my father, but he wouldn't listen.
"My daughter is dead! My Marianne is dead!" My father's voice cracked with rage as his hands closed around my throat. "You killed your sister and got your mother arrested. You deserve to die!" His fingers tightened. "Go to hell—you owe Marianne your life!"
The entire hospital room froze in shock.
The livestream chat exploded:
[What kind of twisted family is this? These people shouldn't be parents.]
[So the younger sister's life matters, but the older sister's doesn't? Are we sure Miranda's even their real daughter? Someone check the DNA!]
[This is terrifying. Not everyone deserves to be a parent.]
Just as black spots danced in my vision, several people yanked my father off me.
"You will go to the police and confess this was all your doing," he spat, chest heaving. "Free your mother, or I swear—"
I gasped for air, my throat burning, and let out a bitter laugh. "You keep saying you won't let me go, but when have you ever let me breathe? To you, I'm worse than an animal."
My father's eyes glazed over with madness. "I should've strangled you at birth. Then Marianne would still be alive." He lunged again, but quick hands hauled him back.
Then Andrew burst in, wild-eyed. "Miranda, was this your plan all along?" He grabbed my wrist hard enough to bruise. "That 'miscarriage' was too convenient."
"I don't know what delusions you're having," I said coldly. "But this? This is karma."
Andrew's fist flew—only to be caught by hospital security. Chaos erupted until both men were dragged out for disrupting the ward.
Alone, I stared at the strand of hair clenched in my palm and dialed my friend. "I need a DNA test. Fast."
The fallout was swift: Mom remained under investigation, Dad got suspended from the hospital, and Andrew's company drowned in returns and scandal. His empire crumbled like a house of cards.
Dad called daily, demanding I sign a waiver to free Mom. I hung up every time. Andrew? Blocked.
Marianne's funeral was rushed—a quiet, shameful affair.
On my discharge day, my phone rang.
"Andrew's spinning the story online," my friend warned. "He's claiming you aborted an eight-month pregnancy to let your sister die."
I pulled up the trending hashtags:
#MirandaChoseAbortionOverSister
#ForcedCSectionTruth
My signed termination form stared back from every screen. The comments section was a warzone.
"My daughter is dead! My Marianne is dead!" My father's voice cracked with rage as his hands closed around my throat. "You killed your sister and got your mother arrested. You deserve to die!" His fingers tightened. "Go to hell—you owe Marianne your life!"
The entire hospital room froze in shock.
The livestream chat exploded:
[What kind of twisted family is this? These people shouldn't be parents.]
[So the younger sister's life matters, but the older sister's doesn't? Are we sure Miranda's even their real daughter? Someone check the DNA!]
[This is terrifying. Not everyone deserves to be a parent.]
Just as black spots danced in my vision, several people yanked my father off me.
"You will go to the police and confess this was all your doing," he spat, chest heaving. "Free your mother, or I swear—"
I gasped for air, my throat burning, and let out a bitter laugh. "You keep saying you won't let me go, but when have you ever let me breathe? To you, I'm worse than an animal."
My father's eyes glazed over with madness. "I should've strangled you at birth. Then Marianne would still be alive." He lunged again, but quick hands hauled him back.
Then Andrew burst in, wild-eyed. "Miranda, was this your plan all along?" He grabbed my wrist hard enough to bruise. "That 'miscarriage' was too convenient."
"I don't know what delusions you're having," I said coldly. "But this? This is karma."
Andrew's fist flew—only to be caught by hospital security. Chaos erupted until both men were dragged out for disrupting the ward.
Alone, I stared at the strand of hair clenched in my palm and dialed my friend. "I need a DNA test. Fast."
The fallout was swift: Mom remained under investigation, Dad got suspended from the hospital, and Andrew's company drowned in returns and scandal. His empire crumbled like a house of cards.
Dad called daily, demanding I sign a waiver to free Mom. I hung up every time. Andrew? Blocked.
Marianne's funeral was rushed—a quiet, shameful affair.
On my discharge day, my phone rang.
"Andrew's spinning the story online," my friend warned. "He's claiming you aborted an eight-month pregnancy to let your sister die."
I pulled up the trending hashtags:
#MirandaChoseAbortionOverSister
#ForcedCSectionTruth
My signed termination form stared back from every screen. The comments section was a warzone.
End of I Was Just A Womb To Them, Now They'll Pay Chapter 9. Continue reading Chapter 10 or return to I Was Just A Womb To Them, Now They'll Pay book page.