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.”*
What that message revealed left me shaking in my car.
