I was halfway through my morning coffee when I heard it—the soft but unmistakable creak of the upstairs floorboards. My grip on the mug tightened.

That wasn't right. My mother-in-law, Diane, was supposed to be using the downstairs guest bathroom. She had no reason to be upstairs.

Frowning, I set my mug down and took the stairs, two at a time. A weird feeling crawled up my spine—part annoyance, part unease. As I rounded the corner into the master bedroom, I froze.

Diane stood in my master bathroom, staring at the counter. No, not just staring—she was fixated. My stomach twisted.

"Diane?" My voice was sharper than I intended. "That's… not the guest bathroom."

She turned slowly, and for a split second, I caught her expression—somewhere between guilt and something else. Excitement? Satisfaction? I couldn't tell. But what really sent a chill through me was the way she smirked.

She didn't say a word. Just gave me this knowing little glance, brushed past me, and strolled out like she hadn't just been caught trespassing in my most private space.

I hesitated, then stepped into the bathroom. My eyes followed hers—straight to the pregnancy test on the counter.

Positive.

A cold, sinking feeling settled in my gut.

She knew.

I let out a slow breath, gripping the edge of the sink.

What the hell was she doing up here? And more importantly… why did she look so damn pleased?

Two weeks later, we were at Diane's house for a big family BBQ, and if I had known the insanity that was about to unfold, I would've faked a stomach ache to stay home.

The backyard was packed—uncles manning the grill, kids splashing in the pool, even aunts gossiping in the shade. I was sipping my lemonade, trying to enjoy the warmth of the sun despite the uneasy feeling curling in my gut. Diane had been acting... weird. Smug, almost. Like she had a secret she couldn't wait to spill.

And then, right as everyone was settling down with their food, she stood, clinking her glass.

Conversations died down. People turned toward her, waiting, glasses raised.

"To Hayden!" she declared. "To Hayden! May you have a long, healthy life, sweet baby!"

A puzzled murmur rippled through the crowd. My father-in-law frowned. "Who's Hayden?"

Diane beamed at me, eyes shining with triumph. "Your baby, of course! Since I was the first to find out about your pregnancy, I thought it was only right that I name my first grandchild!"

Silence. Thick, suffocating silence.

My throat went dry. I barely registered the stunned expressions around me. Ethan had turned, his jaw tight, his eyes dark with something between shock and betrayal.

"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was low, but there was hurt laced in every syllable.

I blinked at him, completely stunned. "Because I'm not pregnant."

The silence deepened. Then a wave of confused murmurs.

Diane's smile faltered. "There's no need to keep it secret, really! I saw the test!"

I stiffened. "What test?"

"The one in your bathroom, of course," she said, her voice still sweet but now tinged with frustration. "There was a positive pregnancy test! You won't fool me."

And that's when it hit me.

Oh.

Oh, no.

I knew exactly whose test that was.

I turned slowly, my stomach twisting into knots, locking eyes with the one person who had been shifting uncomfortably since the toast.

Ethan's sister.