Faith had been staring at her half-drawn canvas for twenty minutes but couldn't get any work done. Instead, she kept thinking about Phil, Anthony, and Myra.
What kind of woman was she?
She must've been beautiful. Way more beautiful than her.
Faith shook her head as she was disappointed in herself for thinking those empty thoughts. What did it matter if she was more beautiful than her? The poor woman was dead. And so was her baby.
Anthony's baby.
Is that why Anthony was so adamant about getting her pregnant? Maybe he wanted to replace the child he lost. Faith wondered what kind of father he would've been.
She jolted as she felt a gentle touch on the nape of her neck.
"Come to bed," Anthony whispered behind her.
Faith shivered. His deep and husky voice still gave her goosebumps. Even
