I went into labor, but my mother coldly said, “The hospital? Dinner comes first!” Then my sister laughed and set our car on fire. “Another useless human? What’s the point?

For a second, I laughed. Not because it was funny—but because the alternative was to believe her.

“I’m serious,” I said.

Jessica leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, that familiar smile playing on her lips—the one she wore when someone else was hurting.

“You’re always dramatic,” she said. “Not every stomach cramp is an emergency.”

Then my water broke.

Warm. Sudden. Real.

Ryan looked up from his coloring, his small face tightening with fear.

“Mommy?”

“I need the keys,” I said. “Now.”

Margaret didn’t move. “My guests will be here in twenty minutes.”

Jessica picked up my purse, pulled out the keys, and held them just out of reach.