Owen had seemed calm about it at the time. After the apocalypse ended, he arranged the funeral for Lesley's family himself. Then he proposed to me, married me, played the part of a loving husband.
Until the day I was due to give birth.
He told me he was taking me to a prenatal checkup. He drove me to the desert instead.
By the time he finally spoke, I'd been baking under the open sun for ten hours. My lips were cracked. My vision was fading. And he stood over me with that cruel, razor-edged smile.
"Wanda, you really are a selfish bitch! If you'd just let Lesley stay with us, she and her family never would have died! Go keep her company in the grave."
I clutched at his hand, begging, pleading with everything I had left.
"Owen, you can't do this. I'm carrying a baby. The baby is innocent..."
Something vicious flashed through Owen's eyes. He lifted his foot and brought it down, hard, on my belly.
"Lesley was pregnant with my child when she died! I've been waiting for this day! You and your brat can burn in hell together!"
I felt my baby kicking inside me as I was roasted alive in the desert. The searing pain of my skin blistering made me shudder.
"What's with that look on your face?!"