“I do have a career,” I whispered, eyes cast downward.

“Etsy doesn’t count,” Chloe said with a smirk, catching her reflection in the microwave. “Anyway, while you’re here, I need you to sign a release for Mom and Dad’s car.

Lease ends next week—I want to upgrade them to the new Mercedes S-Class. Since the old lease was technically under your name, for credit reasons or whatever.”

She had no idea. She thought the lease had been in my name because she had been too busy to visit the dealership three years ago. The truth was far darker: neither she nor our parents had the liquidity or creditworthiness to pass underwriting. Every single payment had been mine.

“I’ll look at it later,” I said, doubling over as another cramp cut through me like a knife. A sharp hiss escaped my lips.

“So dramatic,” Chloe muttered, rolling her eyes. She grabbed the ice bucket and vanished back into the sunlit chaos outside, greeted by the approving claps of our parents.

Chapter 2: Adele Tickets and the ER

Three days later, the dull, persistent cramp erupted into a searing inferno.

I was in the kitchen, slicing grapes for the twins, sunlight spilling through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the golden afternoon. Everything seemed ordinary. Until it wasn’t.

Pain detonated inside me, white-hot, unstoppable. My knees buckled. I collapsed onto the linoleum, the knife slipping from my fingers with a metallic clatter.

“Mommy?” Luna’s voice trembled from her high chair, wide-eyed with fear.

I couldn’t speak. My body curled into a tight, shivering ball. Darkness edged my vision. Something had ruptured inside me—this was no ordinary cramp.

Summoning the last ounces of strength, I crawled toward the counter to grab my phone. Fingers numb, trembling, fumbling over the buttons. 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I… collapsed,” I gasped. “Severe pain… bleeding… two toddlers in the house.”

Then, frantically, I called my neighbor, Mrs. Gable—the seventy-year-old woman with the only access code to our gate.

“Mrs. Gable,” I wheezed. “Help… the kids…”