My mother poured boiling milk over my 8-month pregnant belly to steal my $200k diamond inheritance, right before my water broke on the kitchen floor.

Three days later, I was wheeled out of the surgical wing into the secure visitors' suite of the Charleston County Detention Center.

My left arm and shoulder were swathed in tight, medical-grade compression garments, the burns healing beneath thick ointments that still throbbed with a dull, burning ache. But my core was healing. And more importantly, Lily was gaining weight in the neonatal nursery, her breathing steady, her vitals perfect.

Ethan stood behind my wheelchair, his hands resting protectively on my shoulders.

The heavy steel door across the bulletproof glass clicked open, and Vivian was escorted into the booth by an armed guard.

The woman sitting across from me was unrecognizable.

Her expensive blow-dry was gone, replaced by limp, greasy gray roots. Her face was hollow, sallow, stripped of all foundation and blush. She wore an oversized orange jumpsuit that swallowed her frail frame.

She picked up the plastic telephone receiver with trembling, shackled hands.

I picked up mine.

"Maddie," Vivian whimpered, instantly pressing her hand against the glass, squeezing out tears that held no moisture. "Maddie, my sweet girl. Look at what they've done to me. They treat me like an animal in here. You have to tell them the truth. You have to drop the charges."

I stared at her through the scratched glass. For twenty-eight years, I had spent every waking moment trying to earn this woman's approval. I had paid her debts, swallowed her insults, tolerated her abuse, and excused her cruelty because she was my mother.

Now, all I felt was a cold, empty void.

"You poured boiling milk on my unborn child," I said, my voice dead, flat, and absolute.

"It was an accident!" Vivian insisted, her voice pitching up, tapping the glass frantically. "I lost my temper! You know how my nerves get! But I'm your mother, Madison! I gave you life! You wouldn't even exist without me! How can you stand there and let your own blood rot in a cage?!"

"You didn't give me life, Vivian," I said, leaning forward slightly so she could see the cold steel in my eyes. "You just rented me out as your punching bag until I found someone who actually loved me."

Vivian’s eyes darkened, the fake remorse evaporating like mist under the sun. Her true, monstrous face surfaced once more.

"You think you won?" Vivian sneered, her lip curling with absolute hatred. "You think that pathetic little doctor and that premature brat are going to protect you? You're nothing, Madison! You’ve always been a plain, jealous, pathetic little shadow! Your grandmother knew it! That’s why she hid the truth from you!"

I narrowed my eyes. "What truth?"

Vivian let out a raspy, malicious cackle through the receiver. "You think you inherited that jewelry because Eleanor loved you? Eleanor despised you! She despised what you represent! She knew what I did twenty-eight years ago! She left you that necklace as a blood curse!"

The guard behind Vivian stepped forward, tapping his watch. "Time’s up."

"What are you talking about, Vivian?" I demanded.

Vivian stood up, her shackles clanking loudly against the metal chair. She leaned close to the glass, her yellowed teeth bared in a wicked, triumphant grin.

"Check the box, Madison," she whispered chillingly into the phone before the guard pulled her back. "Look beneath the blue sapphire. Kelsey didn't drop that missing accent stone. It was never a diamond. It’s a key. And when they find out whose blood you really carry... your perfect little doctor husband won't even look at your face again."