Chapter 2: Something Is Wrong With the Paperwork
My hand went to my stomach without thinking.
I stood there in the hallway, not breathing, not moving.
Penelope's voice was low and tight, the way it gets when she's scared.
"I know, I know," she said into the phone.
"But she's eight months along.
If she finds out now, everything falls apart."
A pause.
Then: "She loves this baby already.
That's the problem."
I pressed my back against the wall.
My legs felt hollow.
What did that mean — *that's the problem?*
I had given up eight months of my body.
I had endured every appointment, every discomfort, every sleepless night — for her.
Because I loved her.
Because I believed she deserved this.
And now she was on the phone, whispering about me like I was a complication to manage.
I heard her say one more thing before I made myself walk back to the front door.
"Just make sure the paperwork is ready before she delivers.
Once the baby is here, it won't matter what she knows."
I stepped outside into the cold air.
My phone was in my hand but I couldn't remember picking it up.
I sat in my car for a long time, staring at the nursery window I could see from the driveway — the yellow curtains Penelope had hung herself, the little lamp glowing inside.
Then my phone buzzed.
A text from a number I didn't recognize.
*"You deserve to know what your sister has been hiding.
Call me before you go back in that house."*
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What that message revealed left me shaking in my car.
Click the link below to read the full story — the truth is more devastating than anything Penelope said on that phone call.
