My stepsister begged me to be her surrogate after years of failed IVF — but at 8 months pregnant, I overheard her on the phone saying, “She can’t find out the truth before the baby is born.”

I opened my eyes.

Diane was watching me.

“Are you ready for today?” she said.

I thought about Penelope’s text from the night before.

*I have so much to tell you.*

“Yes,” I said.

But when I stood up to leave, my phone rang.

A number I didn’t recognize — different from Diane’s, different from the night before.

I answered it.

“Is this the surrogate?” A man’s voice.

Tense.

Quiet.

“Who is this?”

“It’s Marcus,” he said.

“Penelope doesn’t know I’m calling.

I need to tell you something before you go to the house today.

Something I didn’t tell the lawyer.”

“Marcus,” I said.

“What didn’t you tell her?”

Joel was watching me.

I put the call on speaker and held the phone between us.

“The paperwork,” Marcus said.

His voice was low and fast, like someone talking through a nearly closed door.

“The version Penelope filed — I didn’t know she’d done it until two weeks ago.