1. The Frame Up

At Laura Dickson-Williams' Bedroom

“I will goad him into a fight and leave this marriage based on domestic violence. I don't understand why he will not accept my proposal to divorce,” the twenty-one-year-old Laura resolved. She woke up and sadly remembered that she had scores to settle with her poor husband, twenty-five-year-old, Tim Williams. 

“We are no more in the same league. I want to marry a real man and not a penniless and classless man,” she said to herself and angrily got up from her bed.  

“How can I meet a real man if I continue to be the wife of a scumbag?” she cursed. 

Likewise, she threw her duvet off her and tried to get out of bed but halted when the door opened. She glared at Tim who walked in to check on her.

“It's time for work, Laura,” he informed her.

“So, you know work but you can't get one for yourself? You wretched pauper.”

Tim smiled softly and gave his regular response, “I will work when the time comes.”  

His laissez-faire approach to her chastisement often angered her and she made clear to him, “Here you go again. Good for nothing fellow. We have been together for three years and you have nothing to show for it.”

Tim swallowed hard and smiled as though he did not hear her. He had heard that severally since she got her job. He sat beside her and to his surprise, she slapped him so hard and roared, “Get out of my room.”

He smiled dryly and asked, “Did you hit me, Laura?”

She ignored his question and got out of the bed. He stood up too and she charged violently at him. Notwithstanding, he held her hands tightly and restrained her from hitting him again. Now, she was raging with anger and to avoid hitting her, he walked out of her room.

“Idiot. Wretched bastard. All you could do is to get me pregnant,” she cursed and watched him leave.

“I will abort the pregnancy and quit,” she grumbled and walked into the bathroom.

In The Parlor

Tim took a deep breath before he sat down on the dining chair. Without delay, he looked at his cross-body bag which contained his heirloom.

“I was patient with her when she could not get a job or conceive because of the complications she had after she was raped by some soldiers. Why can't she be patient with me?” He murmured.  

Soon, she walked to the parlor and was dressed in corporate wear which gave her the aura of a successful career woman. She worked as a secretary to the Chairman of Auxiliary Armory PLC, a government-owned military equipment company. She enjoyed so much entitlement and was highly respected in the country.

Without opening the dishes, she flared up, hit him in the eye, and warned, “Get a job for yourself and stop eating my food.”

“Stop,” he commanded and held her hands tightly.

To his astonishment, she began crying at the top of her lungs, “Help. He wished to kill me. Somebody help me.” 

At that point, her team of security who were waiting for her in the courtyard were alerted and the Head of Security rushed into the house.

“What happened, Mrs. Dickson-Williams?” He asked and looked around for any clue.

She held her stomach and requested, “Ugh! I am dying. He hit me and kicked my tummy. Take me to the doctor quickly.” 

“Oh, my God,” the dutiful Head exclaimed and glared at Tim before he periled his life and attacked him, “How dare you hit my boss?”

To his astonishment, Tim twisted his hand and he staggered backward. 

To avoid showing weakness before his boss, he steadied himself, smiled, and said, “Okay, Boss,” and tried to help her.

“What is the matter with you, Laura.” The startled Tim asked but she cried the more and instructed the officer, “Take me out of here or he will kill me.”

“All right, Mrs. Dickson-Williams,” he accepted. 

The confused Tim tried to lend a hand but she rebuffed the gesture, “Don't touch me. You murderer.”

“You heard her. Don't touch her,” the officer shouted and led her to the car. Instantly, the team moved with the car siren. The sound attracted her parents who lived in the luxury boys' quarters and they were curious.

“What happened?” Her forty-six-year-old mother, Mrs. Madeline Dickson, inquired.

“The Boss is critically ill,” one of the guards informed her.

“Oh, my goodness! What is happening to my daughter?” She screamed and ran into her room to get ready for the hospital.

At The Hospital

Before she got to the company's clinic, a team of three doctors was waiting for her. Meanwhile, the moment her convoy left her house with the siren, the pressmen were attracted. They rushed after her convoy and caused gridlock on the way which delayed her parents' movement.

“Talk to us, Mrs. Williams. What is troubling you?” The Medical Director, Dr. Jolly Robinson, requested.

“Terminate the pregnancy and save me, please. My life is in danger,” she begged with fake agony.

“What!”

“Why terminate the pregnancy?” The two doctors asked.

“This is supposed to be a precious baby, Mrs. Williams,” the Medical Director who was aware of her medical history and how they prayed for the pregnancy, pointed out.

As if she was losing her breath, she pleaded, “Abort it on health concerns. I'm dying.” 

The confused Medical Director shook his head dejectedly, gave his colleagues his consent and they went into action. After a while, they were through with the surgical abortion of the twenty-week-old pregnancy and moved her to the ward to rest.

“I had a miscarriage, Mom and Dad,” she informed her parents who were already in her ward.

“My grandchild! This is unbelievable,” her mother screamed and her fifty-year-old father, Finley Dickson, asked, “What a tragedy! What happened?”

“Tim kicked my stomach this morning,” she sobbed.

“What! That gold digger dared to lay hands on you?” Her father asked angrily.

“I know that he is good for nothing. He wished to kill you and inherit everything,” her mother declared. 

Shortly, her assistant walked in and greeted her, “Good morning, Mrs. Williams. I got the news that you are unwell and decided to check on you.”

“That is kind of you, Alice.”

“How do you feel now?”

“I feel better. Thank you for your concern.”

“That is good to hear. The press would like to know what to report. What do I tell them?”

“Oh! Just tell them the truth. My lazy husband kicked my stomach because I got a job for him and he rejected it.”

She paused and waited for her to write her note. Afterward, she asked, “Is that all, Mrs. Williams?” 

“No. Inform them that I suffered a miscarriage and that I am recuperating.”

“Ouch!” She showed worries.

“I got it, Boss," she said and left at once.  

“Oh! You are an honest girl, my daughter. You didn't withhold the truth from the public,” her mother praised her.

“Yes. Have you forgotten that we gave her and her siblings good home training?” Her father added.  

“You are correct,” she admitted and gave her daughter an encouraging smile.

 "Oh, my stomach!" She screamed aloud and held her stomach.

"What?" Her bewildered parents asked in unison.

"The abortion pain is much."

"Abortion or Miscarriage?" The astounded parents asked.