**Diary Entry**
The ambulance raced through the streets of London, its siren wailing like a desperate cry. Inside, Emily lay unconscious, caught between life and death. The lead doctor, a greying man named Dr. Harrington, checked her pulse and barked orders at the nurses:
“Faster! Keep the pressure steadydont let her lose any more blood. The baby still has a chance!”
Beside her, Rosamund wrung her hands, whispering prayers. Her heart clenched with guiltshe hadnt intervened in time, back at the manor. She remembered Isabellas icy expression, the cold gleam in her eyes like the edge of a knife, and finally, she understood the truth.
**The Emergency Room**
When Emilys stretcher rolled into A&E, Richard lunged at the doctors, his eyes red with tears and fury.
“Please, save her! Her and our baby I cant lose them!”
Dr. Harrington gave him a sharp, professional lookthere was no time for drama.
“Mr. Whitmore, you need to wait outside. Were doing everything humanly possible.”
Richard stood frozen for a moment, then crumpled onto a bench in the corridor. He buried his face in his hands, and for the first time in his life, the self-assured man felt the ground crumble beneath him.
Behind closed doors, the medical team fought for Emilys life. Her breathing was faint, but her heart still beat. The baby, however, was in critical condition. Machines beeped rhythmically, the tension thick enough to cut.
**The Waiting Room**
Isabella swept into the hospital, flanked by two close friends summoned to play the role of concerned witnesses. Her face was stony, but her trembling voice fooled those around her:
“Poor girl how could she slip like that? I only wanted us to be a united family.”
Rosamund, standing in the corner, glared at her with smouldering hatred. If only shed had the courage to speak the truth then, maybe everything could have been different. But fear of Isabellas power, her influence in the city, and her ability to ruin lives paralysed her.
**Richard and His Mother**
“Mother!” Richard burst out, rising abruptly. “Where were you when this happened? Rosamund says you were right beside her!”
Isabella touched his arm with false tenderness.
“Darling, I was upstairs. I only saw her fall It all happened so fast. God, if only I couldve caught her!”
False tears streaked her cheeks, but Richard wasnt sure he believed her anymore. A small, deep crack had formed in his trust.
**News from the Operating Theatre**
After hours of unbearable tension, the doors opened. Dr. Harrington, exhaustion etched into his face, approached Richard.
“Mr. Whitmore, your wife is alive. It was a hard fight, but weve stabilised her. However the baby”
His words faltered, and Richard understood without needing the rest. His world collapsed. He swayed, bracing himself against the wall as tears streamed down his face.
“Doctor I need to see her.”
“Shell be moved to a ward soon. She needs rest. But we found marks on her chest and arms. They dont look like theyre from a fall. Ill have to report this.”
Isabella, overhearing, stiffened for a split second. Then she recovered, embracing her son with practiced gentleness.
“Dont listen to them, my love. You know how quickly rumours spread. You just need peace now.”
**Emilys Awakening**
Hours later, Emily opened her eyes. She was pale, barely able to breathe. Richard kissed her hand, struggling to hold back tears.
“Emily my love youre here with me.”
She stared at him, then her eyes filled with tears. Her hand drifted to her stomach, but she understood everything from his gaze. A broken sob escaped her lips.
“Our baby”
Richard pulled her close, whispering, “Well get through this together. I still have you, and thats all that matters.”
But in Emilys heart, another pain took rootnot just the loss of their child, but the certainty that behind this tragedy stood the very woman who should have protected her.
**Rosamunds Confession**
Days later, Rosamund could no longer bear the silence. She found Emily alone in the ward and confessed, her voice shaking.
“Mrs. Whitmore you need to know the truth. You didnt fall. Lady Isabella she pushed you. I saw it.”
Emilys face drained of colour. It was the truth shed suspected, but now she had proof.
“Rosamund why tell me only now?”
“I was afraid. You know the power she holds But I cant live with this guilt anymore.”
Emily gripped her hand, summoning unexpected strength. “I swear she wont go unpunished.”
**The Investigation**
Days later, Scotland Yard opened an official inquiry. The doctors reports, the marks on Emilys body, and Rosamunds testimony pieced together a sinister puzzle.
Isabella, however, wasnt one to surrender easily. Her lawyers prepared their defences, and influential friends worked to smother the scandal.
Richard was torn between love for his mother and the brutal truth. Emilys silent suffering haunted him, as did Rosamunds wordsimpossible to ignore.
**The Final Confrontation**
One evening, Richard confronted Isabella in the drawing room, where she waited, elegant and cold as ever.
“Mother, tell me the truth. Did you push Emily?”
Isabella lifted her chin defiantly.
“Darling, everything I did was for your sake. She wasnt worthy of you. She wouldve ruined your life. I saved our family.”
Richard stared at her in horror.
“No you destroyed everything. You killed our child. And for that, Ill never forgive you.”
His words struck like thunder. Isabella stood frozen, but in her eyes burned a helpless flame of hatred.
**Epilogue**
The trial that followed shook London. The papers wrote daily of the “Whitmore Tragedy,” and the public debated it endlessly.
Emily, though fragile, found the strength to testify. Rosamund backed every word. The doctors evidence was irrefutable.
Isabella Whitmore, once respected and feared, was sentenced to years in prison for attempted murder.
Richard and Emily, scarred for life, found solace in each others arms. They vowed to start anew, refusing to let the shadows of the past poison their future.
But deep in Emilys heart, the wound of losing their child would never heal. And every time she stepped onto the marble stairs of the manor, a cold shiver ran through hera reminder that love could be saved, but the hatred of a jealous mother cut deeper than any blade.
