"Are you satisfied?"

On the other end of the line, Watson's voice had a hint of tired huskiness to it.

I froze, not speaking, and he continued to strengthen his tone, "You're satisfied that the baby is gone?"

How was that said as if I had caused the loss of the baby?

"Miranda's still alive, isn't she?" I asked, almost meanly.

Watson looked like he had taken a breath and said through clenched teeth, "Grace, I didn't think you were so vicious."

Vicious?

I smiled coldly, "Maybe it's my children coming to claim their lives or not."

thinking about that night, the black plastic bag carried by Watson, it was...