Invitation

CLAIRE

I was back at the motel, sitting on the bathroom floor with my knees pulled to my chest, when my phone rang... Dad.

My heart leaped. Finally, someone who might listen, someone who would believe me.

I grabbed the phone with shaking hands. "Dad? Dad, please, I need..."

"Come to the house." His voice was cold. "Your mother and I need to speak with you."

Mother, he meant my stepmother, Patricia. My real mother had died when I was eight.

"Dad, I can explain everything. Those photos aren't..."

"Just come. Now."

The line went dead. I stared at the phone, hope and dread warring in my chest, maybe this was good. Maybe they wanted to hear my side, maybe...

I pushed myself off the floor and grabbed my jacket. The cab ride to my father's house felt like it took forever and no time at all. When I arrived, the front door opened before I could knock. Patricia stood there, her face a mask of disgust. She looked me up and down like I was something dirty she'd found on her shoe.

"Come in," she said coldly. "Quickly. I don't need the neighbors seeing you."

I stepped inside, my stomach churning. The house smelled the same, vanilla candles and fresh flowers. But it didn't feel like home anymore. Patricia led me to the sitting room, my father sat in his leather armchair, his face hard as stone. And there, perched delicately on the cream sofa, was Vanessa.

My stepsister looked perfect, as always. Blonde hair in soft waves, a pale pink dress that made her look innocent and sweet. She smiled at me when I walked in, but It didn't reach her eyes.

"Sit down, Claire," my father said.

I sat on the edge of a chair across from them, my hands clasped tightly in my lap.

"Dad, I need to tell you..."

"Ethan came by this morning," he interrupted. His voice was ice. "He showed us everything."

My blood went cold. "Everything?"

Patricia made a disgusted sound in her throat. "The photos, Claire. We saw the photos."

"Those aren't real!" I stood up, my voice rising. "Someone faked them. I was never at that hotel. I never touched Julian. I swear to you, I..."

"Enough." My father's voice cracked through the room like a whip. "Don't insult our intelligence by lying."

"I'm not lying!" Tears burned in my eyes. "Dad, please. You have to believe me, I would never..."

"You've always been selfish," Patricia cut in, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Always thinking only of yourself. But this? Cheating on your husband? Disgracing this family?"

"I didn't cheat!" My voice broke. "Those photos are fake, someone set me up. Please, you have to..."

"Who would do that?" my father demanded. "And why?"

I looked at Vanessa, she sat there, hands folded prettily in her lap, her face the picture of concern.

"I... I don't know," I whispered. But I did know, I knew exactly who.

Vanessa tilted her head, her voice soft and syrupy. "Claire, sweetie, I know this must be hard for you. But maybe... maybe you should just be honest. It'll be easier if you just admit what you did."

I wanted to scream.

"I didn't do anything!" I turned back to my father, desperation clawing at my throat. "Dad, I'm pregnant. The baby is Ethan's. I can prove it, we can do a DNA test..."

"A DNA test?" Patricia laughed, sharp and cruel. "You mean a paternity test? To prove the child isn't Julian's?"

"It's Ethan's baby!" I was crying now, full sobs shaking my body. "It's his. I swear. We can do the test before the baby is born, they can do it through blood work. It's safe. Please, just..."

"Ethan doesn't want a test," my father said flatly. "He doesn't want anything to do with you or that child."

The words hit me like a slap.

"He... he said that?"

"He said," my father continued, his eyes hard, "that you tried to trap him with another man's bastard. That you've been lying to him for months."

"No." I shook my head violently. "No, that's not true. None of that is true!"

"Then explain the photos," Patricia snapped.

"I can't!" My voice cracked. "I don't know how they did it, but those photos are fake. I was never there. I've never been alone with Julian. Never!"

My father stood up slowly, his face twisted with disappointment and rage.

"You've brought shame on this family," he said quietly. "After everything we've done for you. After everything we sacrificed."

"Sacrificed?" I stared at him. "You sold me into a contract marriage!"

"We gave you a good life!" he roared. "A husband. Security. A future. And you threw it away by spreading your legs for his stepbrother!"

I flinched like he'd hit me.

"Get out," he said, his voice dropping to a deadly calm. "Get out of this house. Don't come back. You are no daughter of mine."

"Dad..." My voice was barely a whisper.

"Did I stutter?" His eyes were empty and cold. "You're a whore, Claire. And I don't allow whores in my house."

The word gutted me, i stood there, frozen, my whole body shaking. Patricia turned away from me, like she couldn't bear to look at me anymore, and Vanessa just smiled.

"Claire, honey," Vanessa said softly, standing up. "Why don't you come with me for a moment? Let's give them some space."

I didn't want to go anywhere with her, but I couldn't stay in that room, couldn't breathe under my father's hateful glare. Vanessa linked her arm through mine, her grip tight, and led me out of the sitting room toward the bathroom down the hall.

"Poor thing," she murmured as we walked. "You really thought they'd believe you, didn't you?"

I yanked my arm away from her. "You did this."

She turned to face me, and the sweet mask dropped.

"Of course I did," she said, her voice sharp and cold. "Did you really think Ethan would stay with you forever? You were just a placeholder, Claire. A contract, a warm body in his bed until I came back."

"You're disgusting."

"And you're pathetic." She stepped closer, her eyes glittering with malice. "He never loved you. He barely tolerated you. But me? He's always loved me. Even when I was gone, he was waiting."

"You're lying."

"Am I?" She pulled out her phone and turned the screen toward me.

It was a text thread. Between her and Ethan.

Ethan: I miss you.

Vanessa: Soon. Just a little longer.

Ethan: I'm tired of pretending with her.

Vanessa: Then stop, get rid of her.

My stomach twisted into knots. "Those could be fake," I whispered, but my voice had no strength.

"They're not." Vanessa smiled, sliding her phone back into her pocket. "And you know it."

I backed away from her, my vision blurring with tears. My back hit the bathroom doorframe.

"Stay away from me."

"Gladly." She stepped forward, backing me into the small bathroom. "But first, let me give you some advice."

I tried to move past her, but she blocked my way, her hand shooting out to grip the doorframe.

"Let me go, Vanessa."

"You should leave town," she continued, her voice sweet as poison. "Disappear. Because if you stay, if you keep trying to convince people that baby is Ethan's..."

"It is his!"

Her eyes flashed. "It doesn't matter what's true, Claire. It matters what people believe, and they all believe you're a lying, cheating..."

"Get out of my way!"

I shoved past her, my shoulder hitting hers hard, but Vanessa was ready.

As I stumbled forward, she grabbed my arm and yanked me hard, my feet tangled, and I felt myself falling, everything happened in slow motion.

I reached out, trying to catch myself, but there was nothing to grab. My hip slammed into the edge of the marble countertop with a sickening crack of pain. I cried out, crumpling to the floor. The pain was sharp and brutal, radiating from my side through my whole body.

"Oops," Vanessa said, her voice light. Casual. "You really should watch where you're going."

I pressed my hand to my stomach, gasping for air, and then Vanessa's foot connected with my abdomen, not hard enough to look like a kick. Just a little nudge, like she was trying to "help" me up.

But I felt it. The impact, the pressure, the wrongness.

"Mom!" Vanessa's voice changed instantly, high and panicked. "Mom! Dad! Come quick!"

I curled into myself, pain exploding through my core, something was wrong, something was very, very wrong. Footsteps thundered down the hall.

"What happened?" Patricia's voice, sharp with alarm.

"She fell!" Vanessa cried, dropping to her knees beside me. Playing the concerned sister. "I tried to catch her, but she... oh God, is she okay?"

My father appeared in the doorway, his face pale. I tried to speak, tried to tell them what really happened, but the pain stole my breath, and then I felt warm liquid between my legs... Blood.

"She's bleeding," Patricia whispered, her hand flying to her mouth.

I looked down, blood was spreading across my jeans, dark and terrifying.

"No," I gasped. "No, no, no. The baby. Please. My baby."

"Call an ambulance!" my father barked.

Vanessa stood up, stepping back, her face a perfect mask of shock and concern, but as our eyes met for just a second, I saw her smile. She'd done exactly what she meant to do.

The room started to spin, the pain was dragging me under, dark and suffocating.

"Stay with me, Claire," my father said, but his voice sounded far away, everything was fading. The last thing I saw before the darkness took me was Vanessa, standing in the doorway, watching me bleed, and smiling.