Lily’s face froze for a moment at my words, then quickly recovered.
“Sis, I’ll take care of my nephew for sure.”
She reached for my belly, her eyes shining with delight.
But I ignored her, rising to leave without hesitation.
Her hand hung awkwardly in the air, her face a mask of disbelief. She hadn’t expected me to treat her that way.
As soon as I left, her expression twisted into something sinister.
“Ryan, does Emily know something? She wouldn’t even let me touch her stomach.”
Ryan pulled Lily into his arms, nuzzling against her chest.
“Relax, Emily isn’t that smart.”
He lifted his head, his Adam’s apple bobbing, his gaze burning with lust as he looked at her.
“Besides, I’m dying anyway. Even if Emily realizes the baby isn’t hers, if she tries to terminate, she won’t survive the internet backlash.”
Listening outside, my heart turned ice-cold.
Then Lily spoke again.
“Exactly. Emily will never know that she’s actually Mrs. Foster’s biological daughter. I’ve never once treated her like a sister.”
“Thank goodness Mom had the foresight to switch us at birth. That old Mrs. Foster raised someone else’s son her whole life and never knew. She and Emily really are two of a kind.”
The sounds that followed from inside left no doubt what they were doing.
My fists clenched so tight my palms nearly bled, yet I couldn’t move.
Memories of my mom’s behavior surged up.
She had never acted like a loving mother to a pregnant daughter, but more like a hostile mother-in-law.
During my early pregnancy, I suffered severe morning sickness, retching over the toilet every day.
Instead of pity, my mom pinched her nose in disgust and scolded me for making the bathroom smell.
But with Lily, she was endlessly patient.
Lily had been brought home when I was just old enough to remember. My mom had looked at me sternly.
“Emily, she’s your sister now. You must protect her with your life. Do you understand?”
Confused, I’d agreed.
And I did. I always thought Lily was the outsider, and I was the real daughter, so I gave her everything I could, even hiding treats to share with her.
I never imagined I was the outsider all along.
I stood there laughing and crying, then made up my mind. Later, I yanked strands of Ryan’s and my mom’s hair, plus my own, and called an Uber to the hospital.
When the results came back, my heart sank into an abyss.
I wasn’t my mom’s biological daughter—Ryan was.
So all the unfair treatment I had endured made sense.
When Lily was sick with a fever, my mom slapped me bloody for “not taking care of my sister.”
When Lily didn’t finish her school assignments, my mom blamed me.
I had thought it was grief over my father’s death that made her so cruel.
But no—it was because I wasn’t her real daughter.
Stumbling out of the hospital, dazed, I lifted my head and froze.
Across the street stood a woman who looked strikingly like me, tears in her beautiful eyes.
In that instant, I knew—I was looking at my real mother.
