Chapter 1
To the outside world, Robbinson and Juliet's marriage looked perfect.
Their photographs glowed with bright smiles. Their home appeared peaceful, warm, and inviting. Whenever people saw them together, they admired the way Robbinson placed a protective hand around Juliet's shoulder or the way Juliet leaned into him as though she had found her safest place in the world.
Friends often described their relationship as enviable. Some even used them as an example of what a happy marriage should look like.
But behind the carefully curated pictures and rehearsed smiles, their home carried a different story—one filled with silence, fear, and pain.
Behind closed doors, cracks had already formed in their seemingly flawless marriage.
Robbinson beat Juliet like a drum.
The scars on her body told stories her lips were too afraid to speak. Dark bruises hid beneath layers of makeup. Long sleeves became her daily uniform, even on hot afternoons. Whenever people asked if she was okay, Juliet would simply smile and say she had slipped in the bathroom or bumped into a table.
Deep down, everyone believed her.
Or perhaps they simply chose not to question it.
Juliet herself had long learned to survive by staying quiet. Each day she prayed that Robbinson would change. She remembered the man she had fallen in love with years ago—the charming, gentle man who once promised to protect her forever.
But that man seemed to have disappeared.
In his place stood someone she barely recognized.
Then came the night that changed everything.
It was well past midnight when Juliet heard the familiar sound of a car pulling into the compound. She had been sitting in the living room, anxiously glancing at the clock every few minutes. Robbinson had left home earlier that day and had not answered any of her calls.
The sound of the door unlocking made her heart jump.
Robbinson stepped inside, smelling strongly of alcohol and irritation.
Juliet quickly stood up.
"Welcome home," she said softly, trying to keep her voice calm. "You came late tonight. Is everything okay?"
Robbinson didn't respond. He tossed his keys on the table and loosened his tie with visible frustration.
Trying to be helpful, Juliet stepped forward.
"Let me help you with your briefcase," she said gently.
But before she could even raise her head fully—
SLAP!
The sound echoed loudly across the room.
Juliet's body jerked sideways as Robbinson's hand crashed across her face. The force sent her stumbling backward. A sharp metallic taste filled her mouth instantly.
Blood gushed from her lip.
She barely had time to understand what had happened.
As always, Robbinson's anger had arrived without warning.
Before Juliet could recover, he had already removed his belt.
Her heart sank.
She knew what was coming.
The first strike landed across her back like fire.
"Why do you question me?!" Robbinson shouted.
Another strike.
Then another.
Juliet fell to the ground, trembling.
"Please… I'm sorry… please stop…" she cried, raising her hands weakly to shield herself.
But Robbinson didn't answer.
His face had hardened into something cold and merciless. The belt continued to rise and fall again and again. Each strike carried more rage than the last.
He wasn't listening.
He wasn't seeing her tears.
He wasn't hearing her pleas.
All he seemed focused on was releasing his anger on the fragile body of the woman who had once trusted him with her life.
"Please… Robbinson… please…" Juliet sobbed weakly.
But the beating continued.
Minutes felt like hours.
Her vision slowly blurred. Her cries grew faint as her strength drained away.
Finally, everything went dark.
Juliet collapsed motionless on the floor.
Only then did the terrifying silence in the room make Robbinson pause.
For the first time that night, he noticed something was wrong.
Juliet wasn't moving.
Her breathing had become dangerously shallow.
Panic suddenly gripped him.
"Juliet!" he called, shaking her slightly.
There was no response.
Fear rushed through him like cold water.
Within minutes, Juliet was rushed to the hospital.
Doctors and nurses hurried around her unconscious body, working quickly to stabilize her condition. Robbinson stood outside the emergency room, pacing back and forth anxiously.
Time crawled painfully.
After what felt like forever, a doctor finally stepped out.
"Mr. Robbinson?" he asked.
Robbinson nodded quickly.
The doctor's expression was serious.
"Your wife was pregnant," he said calmly.
Robbinson froze.
The words seemed to echo in his mind.
Pregnant?
The doctor continued.
"Unfortunately, the pregnancy has been miscarried due to severe physical trauma."
The weight of those words hung heavily in the air.
"But there's still another concern," the doctor added. "There are remaining tissues from the miscarriage inside her womb. We need to evacuate them immediately to prevent infection and to save her life."
Robbinson remained silent.
The reality of what had happened slowly settled over him like a dark cloud.
His wife had been carrying his child.
And now the baby was gone.
The doctor waited patiently before speaking again.
"We need your consent to perform the evacuation procedure."
For a moment, Robbinson simply stared at the floor.
Disappointment flickered across his face—though whether it was disappointment about the lost child or something else entirely, no one could tell.
Finally, after a long pause, he nodded.
"Do it," he muttered.
The medical team moved quickly.
The procedure was carried out successfully, and Juliet's life was saved.
Hours later, she regained consciousness in the hospital bed. Her body felt heavy and sore, every movement sending waves of pain through her.
She slowly turned her head.
Robbinson was sitting quietly beside her.
Neither of them spoke.
Somewhere deep within her heart, Juliet felt an emptiness she could not explain.
She didn't yet know that she had lost a child.
But she could feel that something inside her had changed forever.
Two days later, she was discharged from the hospital.
Robbinson helped her into the car, and they drove home in silence.
When they arrived, the house looked exactly the same as it always had.
The pictures on the wall still displayed smiling memories.
The furniture remained neatly arranged.
Everything looked normal.
But something in the air had shifted.
Something invisible but heavy.
Juliet slowly walked into the house.
Robbinson followed behind her.
And once again, the door closed.
From the outside, nothing seemed unusual.
But inside that house, a storm had already begun to grow.