I Didn't Sign Up for a Sister-Wife

Lydia walked toward me, her eyes red.

"Jennifer, please stop making this so hard on Harvey. You're the only one he loves. This baby is just to carry on the McKinzie family line. Once it's born, I'll leave. I promise."

She paused and glanced down at her own feet.

My heart clenched.

The next second, she pitched forward and tumbled straight down the steps.

Someone yanked at me. My lower back slammed into the corner of the railing. Pain shot through me so hard I couldn't breathe.

"Baby!"

My head whipped toward Harvey—only to see him cradling Lydia in his arms.

That "baby" wasn't meant for me.

"My stomach hurts!" Lydia sobbed, her face twisted in pain.

Harvey spun on me, his eyes blazing. "What did you do?!"

Lydia clutched her stomach, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Harvey, it was me—I fell on my own. Jennifer didn't do anything. Please don't blame her."

His mother came screeching toward me like a bat out of hell. "Of course you pushed her! Lydia was standing there just fine! You worthless jinx!"

Her palm cracked across my face. My cheek burned like fire.

Then his father's boot connected with my back. I staggered forward. Ellie slipped from my arms and hit the floor, wailing.

Harvey scooped up Lydia and headed for the door.

Just before he left, he glanced back at me. His eyes were full of disappointment.

"Jennifer... I thought you were different."

His mother snatched Ellie off the floor. "Useless little thing! All you do is cry!"

She dug her nails into my daughter's arm, twisting hard like she wanted to tear off a piece of flesh. Ellie screamed—a raw, heartbreaking sound—her tiny hands reaching out for me.

I lunged to take her back, but my legs gave out. Everything went black.

When I woke up, I was lying on the cold floor of a hospital room. Harvey was staring down at me, his eyes bloodshot.

I looked around frantically. No Ellie.

"Where's Ellie?"

Harvey's eyes burned with rage. He pressed a cigarette into my collarbone—hard. I bit down on a scream as the sizzle of my own skin filled the air.

"Happy now?" His voice was low and venomous. "Lydia delivered a stillborn. The doctors say she'll never have children again."

He slapped me on the cheek before I could even react. Then his fist slammed into the wall beside my head.

"You're going to take responsibility for this, Jennifer."

He smiled—a cold, cruel smile.

"Give Ellie to Lydia. Then we'll call it even."

My eyes went wide with horror. "No. Absolutely not. I carried her for nine months. I gave birth to her. She's mine. Why would I ever—"

The door opened. Lydia was wheeled in, holding Ellie in her arms.

The moment my daughter saw me, she burst into tears.

I lunged forward, grabbed her, and held her against my chest, rocking her gently. "Shh, baby, Mommy's here—"

But she only cried harder. Her tiny face turned purple. Her little hands pushed against my chest—pushed me away.

She didn't want me.

"Jennifer, let me try."

Harvey took Ellie out of my arms and placed her gently into Lydia's.

My daughter hiccupped, sniffled, and grabbed hold of Lydia's collar.

And then—she stopped crying.

All the blood drained from my face.

Harvey glanced at me, his voice dripping with contempt.

"See? Ellie doesn't want you either."