?Chapter 1197:


    “Is my baby okay?” Ynda whispered, her voice trembling as if she were truly afraid, her face wearing a perfect look of distress.


    Beneath that act, she relished every second of her performance, having already arranged with a friendly doctor to make the situation look real.


    There was never a child—not even for a moment.


    By exploiting Joselyn’s rash actions, Ynda had managed to erase a threat and point the finger directly at Joselyn.


    Without hesitation, Brendon sped Ynda’s hand, trying to ease the panic he thought he saw. “We still have time, Ynda. We’re both young, and we can have another baby when you’re ready.”


    Shock flickered across Ynda’s features as she drew in a shaky breath. Tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks. “So it’s true? The baby… I lost it?”


    Brendon’s head dropped, his eyes avoiding hers as he held her hand tighter, the shame weighing on him.


    “My baby is gone. I can’t believe it… How could this happen?” Ynda’s words sounded hollow, her mind spinning with grief as she broke downpletely.


    Her gaze suddenly locked onto Joselyn, and rage twisted her expression. In a fit of hysteria, she seized a pillow and hurled it straight at Joselyn.


    “Give me back my child! You took everything from me!” She reached for anything within her grasp, sending Joselyn stumbling backward in fright.


    Anger gnawed at Joselyn, but the guilt of causing this kept her silent, unable to shoot back or defend herself.


    Moving quickly, Brendon caught Ynda’s wrists and gently pinned her arms down to keep her fromshing out further. “Ynda, please don’t do this. We’ll get through it together. We have plenty of time. We can have another child when you’re better,” he said, pleading with her to calm down.


    Brendon wrapped Ynda in his arms, his chest tightening at the sight of her tears.


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    He whispered words meant to soothe her, yet he never once spoke of how he intended to handle Joselyn.


    That only deepened Ynda’s discontent.


    “I was so eager for our baby’s arrival, and now it tears at my soul to think the baby’s own grandmother is the one who caused its death.


    Brendon, I can’t go on living under the same roof as the murderer who took my child from me—at least not now. Every time I see her, I relive the moment my baby was lost.


    Since your mother won’t allow me to stay at any estate under Dawson’s name, I’ll leave. Once I’m discharged, I’ll rent an apartment and live on my own.”


    Her talk of moving out was nothing more than a deliberate attempt to force Brendon into choosing between her and his mother.


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