Every Time She Prayed, My Baby Died

Evangeline’s POV

Three years of marriage. Three pregnancies.

Every time I confirmed I was pregnant, my sister-in-law Ophelia would walk into the chapel behind the manor.

Then my in-laws would drag me to the hospital and force me to abort the healthy baby.

The night after my third miscarriage, I dragged my weakened body to follow her into the chapel.

The moment I pushed open that door, my blood ran cold.

In that instant, I finally understood why my three children had to die.

I'd been married to my husband for three years. Two pregnancies, and I hadn't been able to keep either child.

All because every time I got pregnant, my sister-in-law would walk into the chapel behind the manor.

Ophelia came from an elite family and had been an exceptional obstetrician. She'd been married to my husband's older brother Gabriel for thirteen years. Everyone saw them as the perfect couple, though they'd never had children. After I married into the Sinclair family, Ophelia quit her job at the hospital and treated me like her own sister.

The first time I discovered I was pregnant, I was overjoyed. I couldn't wait to show Ophelia the test results.

She took the paper from me, and her expression suddenly turned grave.

Before I could ask what was wrong, she turned and walked toward the manor's chapel. At the time, I naively thought she was going to pray for me and my baby.

But when Ophelia emerged from the chapel, my father-in-law and mother-in-law immediately dragged me to the hospital without a word. They forced me to abort the child in my womb. They didn't even give me a reason.

The second time I got pregnant, I learned my lesson. I didn't show Ophelia the test results—I thought maybe I'd upset her since she'd been unable to conceive for years. I even pulled out the doctor's prenatal report showing that the fetus was developing normally and begged my in-laws to let me keep this baby.

But when I saw Ophelia walk into that chapel again, my in-laws' attitude was exactly the same—they forced me to have an abortion that very day.

Still, they gave me no explanation.

I thought maybe my in-laws favored Gabriel's side of the family and didn't want their younger son to have a child first. Or perhaps they wanted to spare Ophelia's feelings, since she'd been trying to conceive for so many years.

But now I was pregnant for the third time.

This time, to be absolutely certain, I'd done comprehensive prenatal testing in advance. The amniocentesis showed a healthy fetus, and DNA testing confirmed it was Damien's biological child.

I'd even arranged for Ophelia to go abroad on vacation, thinking that if she wasn't here, my in-laws would run out of excuses.

Yet as I waited with hope, my mother-in-law Clarissa pulled out her phone and pressed play.

The screen showed Ophelia kneeling in the manor chapel in confession. She'd secretly come back.

My father-in-law Marcus's voice was cold as iron: "This child cannot stay. It must be terminated."

Clarissa added expressionlessly, "Today. This child must be dealt with today. Someone, take the young mistress to the hospital."

Marcus and Clarissa grabbed my arms from both sides and dragged me forcefully toward the door.

I struggled desperately, clutching the door frame with all my strength.

"Why!" I screamed, breaking down. "The baby is healthy! The DNA proves it's your Sinclair family's flesh and blood—it's written right there in the report! Why do you keep forcing me to abort my children? Just because Ophelia isn't happy about it?"

My demands were met only with silence and even more force.

Marcus pried open my last finger, saying coldly, "When we tell you to abort, you abort. Don't talk back."

Clarissa shot a glance at the servants. "What are you standing around for? Take her away."

Tears blurred my vision as despair swallowed me whole.

Just when I thought my third child would meet the same fate as the others, I heard footsteps on the marble floor behind me.

"What's going on here?"

It was my husband's older brother Gabriel.

I whipped around to see him standing in the hallway light, his brow furrowed. In that moment, I saw a thread of hope in my despair.