I married into the Harper family together with my best friend. Me to the older brother, the fire captain, and her to the younger brother, a famous surgeon. On our wedding anniversary, I found myself trapped, locked in a room by my husband's first love. Then, chaos erupted upstairs. Flames tore through the house. Seven months pregnant, I was alone, trapped, with no one coming to save me. Smoke choked me, searing my lungs, making every breath a struggle. In the end, it was my best friend, Leah, who smashed open the door and saved me. As a doctor, I have a responsibility to treat it. But only icy indifference came from the other end. "Leah's cat injured its tail." Leah, frantic, called her husband, begging him to come over and treat me. "Megan’s cat is in danger too! I gotta go save an actual life!" In the end, I lost my baby. Watching the doctor carry out what had been my baby, fully formed, I felt my soul shatter. Leah helped me realize that my marriage was over. "Leah, I want a divorce." Leah hugged me tightly. "If you get a divorce, I'll leave too." Those two pieces of human garbage aren’t worth a drop of our tears. The Harper brothers received the divorce agreements, and panic set in.
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