"I was trying to have a civil conversation with you! Why do you have to be so ungrateful!"

"When it comes down to it, you just don't want to take care of me! I raised you for nothing!"

I pressed my hand against my cheek, frozen in place. "But the life inside me, doesn't that count too?"

"Mom, that's your grandchild!"

"My grandchild?" Her chest heaved violently, her voice cracking. "Did I tell you to get pregnant?!"

"Or are you saying the mother who gave birth to you and raised you matters less than the baby in your belly?"

I looked down at my stomach. This was my first child with my husband. I'd imagined the news would be cause for double celebration.

When I didn't answer, my mother took a step closer, her voice bearing down on me. "Sylvia, wasn't it you who had your husband look into this treatment plan?!"

"You know every detail of the surgical protocol. What's wrong with me asking you to be here for it!"

"So what now? You want to dump your responsibilities on your brother halfway through? Do you have any sense of duty at all!"

My heart was hammering, fast enough that it scared me.

She wasn't wrong. The treatment plan had been my doing.

The moment I'd found the research on a potential cure, I called my husband, Rhys Henson. He dropped everything on the spot and spent an entire week with me poring over medical journals until we confirmed it: this rare blood disease could be treated with a newborn's cord blood.

The success rate was high.

But only if the blood type matched.

Between me and Cornelius, I was the only match.

That was why Rhys and I had this baby.

I thought ten more months, and Mom would be saved.

I hadn't even told her about the cord blood. I was afraid she'd refuse out of concern for me.

Looking back now, that was laughable.

Concern for me?

She didn't have any.

What she wanted was for me to get rid of this baby so I'd be free to wait on her through surgery.

That was when Rhys's call came in.

Before I could answer, Cornelius snatched the phone from my hand and hurled it into the fish tank.

He stood there frowning, something threatening in his expression. "Sylvia, don't even think about telling your husband."

"What if he gets mad and refuses to do Mom's surgery?"

Mad. So he knew. He knew this would make someone angry.

Before I could react, he grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the stairs. "Just fall down yourself. That way it's an accident."