Purity

PROLOGUE...

PURITY.

In the cold, I shuddered as I realized what they meant when they claimed I was useless and a shame. It was Christmas Eve, and I was stuck at home. I detested my life because I had lost everything as a result of a false charge; how could they accuse me of murdering my children when I was the one who carried them for nine months and was then convicted of poisoning them?

When you speak it out loud, it sounds even worse than when you think about it. So, since you're probably curious as to what I'm talking about, let me begin at the beginning, before I lost everything.

Five years ago, I was one of the happiest people on the planet, married to the most perfect man you could ever meet, adoring him and kissing the earth he walked on. That is to say, I was nothing more than a taboo life without him. You know that no one can be entirely happy without having enemies, and you can guess who my foes were. If you can't, I'll tell you about the people that loathe my guts: *drum roll* His Mother, Sister, and her nefarious serpent best friend.

They were hostile to our relationship and marriage and did everything they could to undermine it, but it didn't work until they perpetrated the most horrible act a man could ever commit.

They trampled all over me, smashing, shattering, and wrecking me in every manner possible.

My husband liked children, and after a year of marriage, he got anxious that we wouldn't be able to have our own since his mother and sister chose to focus more on the matter; the fact was that I had a significant secret that I never informed Jude about before our wedding.

Despite the fact that every human, male and female, has both estrogen and testosterone hormones in their bodies, I became very unwell when I was younger because my estrogen levels were quite low in proportion to my testosterone levels. It's only that males produce more testosterone than females, while females produce more estrogen. During that time, the doctor informed my parents that I had a low possibility of becoming pregnant, and that even if I did, there was no guarantee that the fetus would be healthy.

My mother scowled at me; she didn't like me before this revelation, but my father and twin brother Paul were the ones who encouraged me the most. My father asked if it would affect my ability to reach puberty, and the doctor said it wouldn't if I started taking hormone medications to balance my body system.

I didn't tell my father I was concerned at the time, but the prospect of carrying a new life inside of me made me both happy and afraid.

I was on pills until I graduated, and I told him before we married that I might not be one of the lucky ones who would be able to give him children. Because I had been taking estrogen tablets to increase my chances of becoming pregnant, I planned to surprise him by becoming pregnant after a year of marriage.

I fell pregnant soon after and was able to surprise him with the news, making him cry with delight. Seeing an adult cry was both humorous and adorable. I found out I was pregnant with twins a few months into the pregnancy, but we wanted to keep their gender a secret until they were delivered. Mikey and Michelle were the names we gave to our son and daughter, respectively.

His mother, sister, and sister's closest friend were outraged yet acted happy in front of him while bugging me when he wasn't looking, and I always responded with a caustic response and walked away with a broad grin as they simmered with wrath, and I never told my husband about it. which was a mistake.

They eventually succeeded in removing the sassiness and happiness from my life when they chose to conduct the craziest prank that left mental shadows for me. They came to see my babies three years after they were born, claiming that they wanted to see them. I allowed them in and then proceeded to bring them juice and serve myself juice because I planned to break the happy news to my husband about our pregnancy. My mother-in-law then suggested that I bring my babies because she hadn't seen them in a month, and I didn't think anything of it as I went to their room to rouse them up and take them to their grandmother.

"Aww, I miss both of you, my darling babies." She cooed sweetly at them as I sat down and grabbed up my cup of juice. My sister-in-law looked worriedly at her mother, while her companion frowned at me before smiling wickedly. What were their intentions?

They screamed "Gwandma" as she taunted them before letting them go, and they chose to sit with me, ignoring the rest of them. Michelle reached her hand for my juice, and her brother copied her. I was about to take a sip of my drink. I don't see why I shouldn't offer them my cup, even if it's only water, because they constantly grab it. The women across from me let out a collective gasp as they both drank from the cup.

"What?" I queried as I observed them looking uncomfortable at me, but they grinned and stated they had an appointment they almost forgot about as they drove away promising to return when they were done. Shaking my head at them, I elected to see them off to ensure they didn't leave a bomb in my car. As I walked back to the house, I heard my maid crying.

My children were convulsing on the floor, salivary foam accumulating in their mouths, and Rosa, my maid, was crying as I ran back into the home.

"Tell the driver now to get the SUV toward the front immediately," I screamed as she rushed out to pick them up, while I prayed in my heart that they would be okay. This isn't going to happen, and it certainly isn't going to happen. The long drive to the hospital was filled with my sobbing and whimpers for my babies to be okay.

As the driver assisted me in transporting Mikey and then Michelle to the hospital, they were soon in the operating room, where physicians tried to save them. I called my husband, who arrived at the hospital shortly after. He hugged me and inquired what had happened as soon as he saw me. I could only explain that I saw them convulsing on the floor, froth forming at the corners of their mouths.

The world came crashing down on me when the doctor told me I'd lost them both, and I became oblivious to everything around me. I refused to believe the doctor's assertion that they couldn't have survived since they had been poisoned by a strong chemical agent, so the cops arrived and discovered my cup of juice still contained the same chemical that had killed my children.

My husband urged them to take me away because I could kill our children, then feigned to cry in front of him so I wouldn't be a suspect. I pleaded and cried, assuring him that I was not guilty because his mother's visit had never occurred to me.

Soon after, I found myself in front of a judge, who condemned me to ten years in prison and a $2 million bail. My mother and older brother seemed thrilled at first, but when they walked me away, they shook their heads in despair. I knew no one was going to believe me, and even if they did, I wouldn't be able to get a bail. It hurts to realize that the people you thought loved you were the ones who were the first to sabotage your one chance. My father appeared to have been to country Y on business to start a new branch, which would take about a year. My twin was gone on his usual adventure. There was no one who could help me.

For the first week of my detention, I was pummeled every day by guards and other detainees who claimed I was a scumbag, until they finally took away the only hope I had.

They had abused me as usual, and I had always struggled to defend my fetus, but I had been failed that day, as they stabbed me and left me bleeding, and I passed out. When I awoke, I was in the prison clinic, with a nurse staring at me with sorrowful eyes that immediately became cold when she realized I was awake and dashed away to summon the doctor. Before rolling her eyes and scribbling something on her clipboard, the woman threw me a sidelong glance.

"What am I doing here?" As she grinned, I inquired, my voice hoarse.

As my heart sank, she quipped, "You were stabbed but survived, as you can see your baby died." "Another youngster has died."

"You don't have to fake tears because we all know how you slaughtered your children," she added, muttering about how killers don't deserve children.

I had no reason to live, but according to the guards, I was released five years before my sentence was to expire because some fool decided to bail me out, and they would have let me die in prison if it had been up to them.

I had no idea who had let me go because they never showed up, so I started looking for a new life.