Chapter 1

At my baby shower, my husband opened the last gift.

A positive pregnancy test.

Not mine.

My sister's.

He smiled, pulled her into his arms, and said, "Surprise."

The game had been Sienna's idea. "Guess Who Sent It." Twenty guests in pastel dresses, a tower of cupcakes iced in pale yellow because we didn't know if it was a boy or a girl, and a pile of anonymous boxes stacked by the fireplace.

Ethan had to guess the sender of each gift.

The last box was small and powder blue. Taped to the test inside was a card in gold ink: Can't wait to meet you, Daddy. Love, Baby #2.

For one second, the room laughed. They thought it was a joke.

"Sienna, you're evil," my cousin squealed. "You two can't stand each other!"

"Remember when Ethan banned her from our wedding planning?" someone added. "He said she'd turn the reception into a frat party."

Sienna stood by the window, cheeks burning pink. She didn't laugh.

And Ethan didn't guess.

He walked straight to her, slid an arm around her waist, and turned to face me.

"Claire, I kept waiting for you to figure it out," he said, almost gently. "Seven months. I told you the lipstick on my collar was yours. You don't even wear red."

The room went silent. My ears filled with a high, thin ringing.

"So here's how this goes," he continued, like he was walking a client through a floor plan. "You can stay. Two babies, one family. I'll take care of everyone."

"Or you can walk out of here eight months pregnant with nothing. You signed the prenup, sweetheart. And your mom's heart surgery is next Tuesday." He tilted his head. "Who do you think is paying for it?"

Every eye in the room was on me. Some curious. Most of them pitying.

"Why?" My voice came out cracked and small.

Last night, he'd knelt on our bedroom floor with his ear pressed to my belly. "I swear she kicked when I said I love you," he'd whispered. "She already knows her daddy."

This morning, he'd hung every single paper lantern in this room himself.

Sienna stepped away from him and reached out to steady me. Her perfume hit me—sandalwood and cedar.

Ethan's cologne.

I almost threw up.

Her eyes were wet. The last time I'd seen Sienna cry, we were nine years old. My parents had just brought her home from a foster placement that had gone bad, and she'd sobbed in my bed until I held her hand. From that night on, she was my sister. My shield. The loud one who fought every bully I was too quiet to fight.

When Ethan started dating me, she hated him. He hated her right back.

"Keep your distance from Sienna, babe," he used to say. "She's a bad influence. I don't like how she's always hanging on you."

I'd spent years playing peacemaker between them.

Now they were holding hands.

That's when I saw it.

On Sienna's finger sat a square-cut sapphire set in old platinum. My grandmother's ring. The one she'd left me in her will. The one Ethan said must have been stolen when we moved.

"It looks better on her," Ethan said, following my stare. "You never wear it anyway."

Something in me broke loose. I slapped him so hard my palm went numb.

He didn't flinch. He just caught my hand and pressed a kiss to my stinging fingers.

"I didn't want to ruin your day," he murmured. "But you kept asking about naming me on the birth certificate early. For the baby's sake, I need you to understand. Sienna's carrying my child too. And she's due in the spring."

Somehow, the guests had disappeared. Ethan had shooed them out while I stood frozen. It was just the three of us now, surrounded by pink and blue balloons and a banner that read Welcome, Little One.

It looked like a joke someone had played on me.

My lips twisted into something that wasn't a smile.

"When did it start?"

Sienna hesitated. Then she said it.

"The night you lost the first baby."