Chapter 3: The Truth Behind Emma’s Birth
No one spoke.
Not even Lauren.
The Christmas lights continued blinking around the room, completely out of place with the tension filling the house.
I looked at my father.
“What does Emma’s birth have to do with this?””
Dad didn’t answer.
That scared me more than anything.
James moved closer to me.
“Claire, we don’t have to stay.””
But I couldn’t leave.
Not now.
I needed answers.
“Dad.””
My father sat down slowly.
For a few seconds, he looked like he had aged ten years.
“I should have told you before.””
“Before what?””
He looked at Emma.
Then at me.
“The day she was born.””
My heartbeat became louder.
“What happened?””
My mother covered her mouth.
“Please…”
Dad ignored her.
“Claire, when you were in labor, Lauren came to the hospital.””
I frowned.
“Of course she did.””
“No,” Dad said quietly.
“She came before anyone else.””
I felt confused.
“What are you saying?””
Dad folded his hands together.
“Your delivery was dangerous. You were exhausted. The doctors were worried about complications.””
I remembered that day.
The bright hospital lights.
The machines beeping.
The fear.
But I remembered James holding my hand.
I remembered hearing Emma cry for the first time.
“What does Lauren have to do with that?””
Dad looked at Lauren.
“She overheard the doctors talking.””
Lauren’s face went pale.
Dad continued.
“They said there was a chance Claire might not be able to take care of a newborn immediately after birth because of her condition.””
My stomach tightened.
“Her condition?””
“The pain medication. The exhaustion. The recovery.””
Dad looked at me.
“They were talking about temporary support.””
I nodded slowly.
“I remember.””
I had needed help.
Every new mother did.
But Dad’s next words changed everything.
“Lauren didn’t hear the word temporary.””
The room went silent.
“She thought it meant Emma needed someone else.””
I looked at my sister.
“You thought I was going to lose her?””
Lauren’s eyes filled with tears.
“I thought you weren’t ready.””
I stepped back.
“You don’t get to decide that.””
“I saw you crying in that hospital bed.””
“Because I had just given birth!””
My voice echoed through the room.
“You saw one broken moment of my life and decided I wasn’t a mother?””
Lauren looked down.
“I was scared.””
“No,” I whispered.
“You were jealous.””
Her head snapped up.
For a moment, I saw the truth on her face.
Then it disappeared.
Dad stood.
“That’s enough.””
Everyone looked at him.
“I failed both of my daughters.””
His voice cracked.
“I should have stopped this years ago.””
I stared at him.
“Years?””
Dad swallowed.
“Lauren has always believed she deserved what you had.””
My eyebrows pulled together.
“What does that mean?””
He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old photograph.
He handed it to me.
It was a picture of me as a child.
And Lauren standing beside me.
But something was written on the back.
A sentence.
A sentence that made my blood run cold.
I read it twice.
Then I looked at Dad.
“Where did you get this?””
Dad’s eyes filled with regret.
“Lauren wrote it when she was twelve.””
I turned the photo over again.
The handwriting was small.
But the message was clear.
One day, Claire will lose everything that should have been mine.
My hands started trembling.
James took the photo from me.
His expression darkened.
“Your sister has been planning this for a long time.””
Lauren immediately shook her head.
“No. That’s not what it means.””
“Then what does it mean?”” I asked.
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Emma suddenly stirred in my arms.
Her tiny fingers wrapped around my sweater.
I looked down at my daughter.
And then I looked back at my sister.
The person I had trusted most had spent months trying to convince the world that I wasn’t worthy of being Emma’s mother.
But there was still one question I couldn’t answer.
Why?
Why had Lauren become obsessed with my daughter?
Dad looked at me with tears in his eyes.
“Claire…”
I waited.
“Emma isn’t the first child Lauren tried to take from this family.””
My breath stopped.
“What?””
Dad looked toward the hallway.
May you like
And whispered a name I hadn’t heard in years.
“Ask her about Michael.””
