Bella's POV
I typed frantically, my fingers stumbling over the keys as panic set in. Please answer the phone. The words appeared on my screen, riddled with typos that I hastily corrected.
Send. The message showed delivered, but only one checkmark appeared.
I stared at the profile picture that had been there moments before. The sweet image of a baby in diapers, the one I'd grown accustomed to seeing during our conversations, had vanished. In its place sat an empty gray circle, cold and impersonal.
The realization hit me like a freight train. She had blocked me.
My voice came out as a strangled whisper. "What the hell is happening?"
The tremor in my hands spread through my entire body as the weight of the situation crashed down on me. Kaden glanced up from his position on the couch, and I saw what looked like concern flicker across his features.
"Everything alright over there?"
I froze completely. My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I thought he might hear it. I couldn't let him see me falling apart like this. Not when I barely understood what was happening myself.
"Just some crazy drama online," I managed, forcing what I hoped sounded like laughter. The sound cracked halfway through, betraying the chaos inside me.
His gaze lingered on me for what felt like an eternity before he returned his attention to his laptop. I couldn't stay there another second.
I gathered my untouched plate and bag with shaking hands, trying to appear casual despite feeling like I was coming apart at the seams.
"I'm going to finish eating upstairs. Need to get comfortable." I didn't wait for his response before hurrying toward the stairs.
Once safely behind my bedroom door, I abandoned the food on my nightstand and immediately dialed the agency. My fingers could barely hold the phone steady.
The familiar voice answered after ringing briefly. "Hello, Miss Bella." Mrs. Sarah sounded exactly as she always did – professional, measured, completely unaware that my world was imploding.
"I need you to explain something," I whispered urgently, my voice barely audible. "The adoptive parents just cut contact. Are they really backing out of everything?"
Silence stretched between us before she responded with that same maddeningly calm tone.
"Miss Bella, we assumed you had reviewed the updated contract from the previous evening thoroughly."
The words hit me like ice water. My head began to pound, and nausea rolled through my stomach in waves.
The contract. The papers I'd signed in exhaustion last night, desperate to get home and rest. The ones I'd barely glanced at because I trusted them. Because I thought nothing fundamental would change without warning me.
"I didn't actually read through it completely," I confessed, my voice hollow with growing dread. "You didn't mention any major changes when I signed, so I assumed—"
"You have your copy. Please review it carefully and contact us once you've had time to process everything."
The line went dead, leaving me staring at the silent phone.
I sat motionless for some time, feeling disconnected from my own body, like I was watching someone else's nightmare unfold. Then desperation kicked in, and I tore through my bag like a woman possessed.
There it was, crumpled beneath old receipts and random papers. The brown envelope that contained my fate. My hands shook violently as I extracted the contract and smoothed out the wrinkled pages.
I scanned through paragraph after paragraph of legal language until my eyes found the final section that made everything crystal clear.
'We are providing double the originally agreed compensation, and we wish the child well in her future.'
The words blurred as I read them again. They were talking about my baby like she was merchandise they'd decided to return. Like I could simply choose what to do with her based on whether I wanted the hassle.
My signature stared back at me from the bottom of the page, bold and official next to the agency's seal. I could still feel the pen in my hand from last night, remember how quickly I'd scrawled my name and rushed out to grab dinner. I hadn't read a single damn word.
The tears came all at once, hot and relentless, soaking the contract where my name was written. My body shook with sobs I couldn't control.
What have I done? How could I have been so careless?
I pressed my hand over my mouth, trying to muffle the sound that threatened to escape. My shoulders convulsed as I doubled over, the contract sliding from my lap to the floor like it was trying to escape me too.
Collapsing back onto my bed, I struggled to catch my breath between the waves of panic. My phone buzzed against my leg.
A banking notification appeared on the screen: Deposit received - $110,000 from Bright Way Agency.
Almost immediately, a new email arrived with a subject line that made my blood run cold: Final Payment Processed.
"We have transferred the complete agreed amount. We wish you well in your future endeavors and trust that the child will have a good life ahead."
I couldn't finish reading. The phone slipped from my numb fingers and landed beside me on the comforter.
Wish me well? Trust that the child will have a good life?
This was it? A bank transfer and a polite email dismissal?
I was supposed to just become a single mother overnight? Transform from their contracted surrogate into someone completely abandoned to figure this out alone?
Shouldn't I have been consulted before they decided to change everything? Didn't I deserve some input in this decision that would alter my entire existence?
And why? Because she's a girl?
My daughter's crime was being born female.
My hands moved instinctively to my bump, finding the familiar curve that housed the tiny life still depending on me completely. She was still there, growing, dreaming, trusting me to keep her safe.
Now I was all she had left.
Why did the woman always end up carrying the consequences of choices that weren't entirely her own to make?
The tears continued flowing silently down my cheeks as I stared at the ceiling light above me. It flickered once and then steadied, indifferent to the chaos happening below.
All my questions would remain unanswered. My strength had completely abandoned me, and I couldn't even find the energy to stand.