Before I completely blacked out, I saw Carson losing his mind.

He kicked over the medical bag, eyes bloodshot, and roared, "Nonsense! Winry can't be sick! Treat her! If you can't save her, your entire hospital will be paying for it!"

I used the last of my strength to tug his sleeve. "C-Carson… please… spare Francine…"

He clutched me tighter, burying his face against my forehead that was covered in cold sweat. "Okay, I promise, Winry. Don't be afraid. I'm here… I won't let anything happen to you."

When he told the butler to release Francine, I finally let out a breath of relief and slipped into darkness.

...

Three days passed when I opened my eyes once more.

Carson was kneeling at the bedside. His eyes were hollow, and his jaw rough with stubble. 

"Winry, you're awake! It's all my fault. Please don't leave me!" His voice was raw, thick with regret. "I should've seen the signs mont

My words drained the color from Carson's face. He stumbled to explain in a panic, "I know. No one can replace you, ever…"

I didn't answer and went back inside. "I don't like that wooden marker. Take it down."

...

The next day, Carson took me to the beach.

I gripped the jet ski handles and skimmed over the waves while he followed on another craft, talking about the old days.

He told me how, when he was starting out and his cash flow collapsed, when competitors boxed him in at the dock, it was me who jumped on a jet ski and tore through the blockade, soaking him head to toe.

He'd been so mad that he wanted to call me crazy, but then he saw me laughing with my head thrown back, and he suddenly blushed. He said he'd never met such a wild, feisty woman before. 

He swore that if it weren't for my reckless streak, he'd probably already have had his legs broken and been tossed in the sea.

Carson barked at the guards to take my golf club away, then slapped me across the face. "It's just a pet. So what if it's gone? If Grandpa finds out you messed with the baby in Helena's belly, no one will be able to save you. Go to your room!"

Helena leaned into him, eyes bright with the thrill of watching a show.

At that moment, I was completely disillusioned. Every scrap of love I'd poured out to him in the past felt like a joke.

After they dragged me back to the main house, Carson's grandfather, Orlando Lambert, made me stand outside the villa to "reflect" on my actions.

The winter wind felt like a thousand icy needles boring into my bones. Two hours later, I collapsed in the snow.

When I came to, I found myself in Carson's arms. He sighed and pressed a handwarmer to my numb, purple ankle.

"Winry, don't be so stubborn. Just hold on a little longer, okay? The doctor said it's a boy. Once he's born, he'll be yours and mine. I'll try not to see her in the future, alright?"

My body ached like it was falling apart. I tried to push him away, but realized I couldn't even lift my arm.

He brought me a cup of warm water, tested the temperature, and helped it to my lips.

He said, "Don't be angry. You know I only have you in my heart. When you feel better, I'll take you to the beach. I'll find another Samoyed just like the one you lost."

I turned my head and knocked the cup over. My voice was raw. "No. Carson Lambert, if you still have a conscience, let me go back to my parents' house."

His eyes were red as he gripped my wrist and hissed, "It's just a dog! Winry, do you really want to leave me over this? Do I worth less than that dog in your heart?"

Just then, the butler rushed into the room in a panic. "Sir, Ms. Ziegler has food poisoning!"

Carson trembled in shock and quickly released my hand. "Food poisoning? But how?"

From the butler's scrambled words, I started to put it together. 

Earlier, when Francine had gone to heat my soup, she'd use the same pot that had been stewing some nutritious broth for Helena, so they suspected it was Francine who poisoned her.

"That's impossible! Francine would never do that!" I said, furious and frantic.

But Carson only told the maid to watch after me and ran out the door.

When Francine was taken down to the basement for questioning, I limped after them as fast as my injured leg would allow and reached the stairwell.

I shouted until my voice went raw, but Carson didn't look back. He just said that Francine had confessed.

"She wouldn't do that! It's a mistake!" I begged. "Please, don't punish her. I'll move to the guest room. I'll pretend I didn't see anything. Please…"

I leaned against the banister and sat on the stairs. Carson finally turned to me, his eyes bloodshot. "She says she did it of her own will. It's nothing to do with you. Winry, do you really want to leave? Are you giving me up for a maid?"

He rushed forward and hauled me to my feet.

I yelled, "Yes! From the moment you slapped me, I've given up on you! I don't want her baby, nor do I want the title of Mrs. Lambert. I just want to leave, to get as far away from you as I can!"

Tears blurred my vision as I screamed out everything—every humiliation, every bit of helplessness and heartbreak.

"Shut up!" he roared. "I'll drag that old woman out and beat her up. Let's see if you'd still say such things!"

"No! Don't!" I shoved him away, desperate to run to the basement and save Francine.

He grabbed the back of my collar, then froze when he saw blood at the corner of my mouth. "Winry, what's wrong?"

It was then that I realized I'd coughed up blood. Bright red drops fell from my chin onto the carpet. 

In a panic, I tried to cover my mouth, but my legs gave out. I collapsed and could not rise again.

"Doctor! Somebody call the doctor! Save Winry!" Carson's hands shook as he scooped me up. 

I clung to his shirt, trying to plead, but the metallic, iron taste in my mouth surged stronger. My blood soaked a patch of his lapel.

The family physician rushed in with his medical bag, dropped to his knees, and said urgently, "Mr. Lambert, Mrs. Lambert's heart can't hold on much longer. She has a month left, at best. She absolutely mustn't be subjected to any more stress!"

Before I completely blacked out, I saw Carson losing his mind.

He kicked over the medical bag, eyes bloodshot, and roared, "Nonsense! Winry can't be sick! Treat her! If you can't save her, your entire hospital will be paying for it!"

I used the last of my strength to tug his sleeve. "C-Carson… please… spare Francine…"

He clutched me tighter, burying his face against my forehead that was covered in cold sweat. "Okay, I promise, Winry. Don't be afraid. I'm here… I won't let anything happen to you."

When he told the butler to release Francine, I finally let out a breath of relief and slipped into darkness.

...

Three days passed when I opened my eyes once more.

Carson was kneeling at the bedside. His eyes were hollow, and his jaw rough with stubble. 

"Winry, you're awake! It's all my fault. Please don't leave me!" His voice was raw, thick with regret. "I should've seen the signs months ago. How could I have ignored you for that woman and kept hurting you?

"It wasn't until you coll

Chapter 6