Chapter 1

I read the post again.

[My older daughter has been selfish and useless since she was little. She only got into a top college because she got lucky and landed a rich husband.]

[Now she had a baby and suddenly acts like she's some fragile princess. My son-in-law's family spent $30,000 putting her in one of those fancy recovery places, and she doesn't think twice about it. Do you know what $30,000 could do? That's enough for a down payment on my younger daughter's apartment.]

[My younger daughter is the better girl by far. She's classy, sweet, educated, and just got back from a prestigious school in the UK. She fits high society much better than her sister ever will. I need the older one divorced so the younger one can step in instead. Any advice?]

Every word felt like it was scraping across my skin. My hands started shaking.

The IP address was local.

I was only seven days out from giving birth, still recovering.

My husband and his parents were terrified I'd push myself too hard, so they booked me into a luxury recovery suite with a living area, study, nursery, and private bedrooms.

My sister Zoey had just gotten back from the UK last month. She'd even asked me to help her find a job.

The tone. The wording.

It sounded exactly like my mom.

'No way... It can't be...'

My lips went dry.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

I opened the photo she sent.

Bruce Brighton was holding a woman in his arms.

Way too close.

It took me three seconds to realize it was fake.

The woman had six fingers.

Under the photo was a voice message.

"Kyla, look at this!" Mom's voice exploded through the quiet room. "Is Bruce cheating on you? Don't be stupid!"

Then she forwarded an article.

[Don't Forgive a Cheater During Postpartum Recovery: Once a Cheater, Always a Cheater.]

Every word screamed divorce.

I tightened my grip on my phone as cold spread through my body.

***

Ever since I was a kid, Mom kept saying we were broke. As the older sister, I had to sacrifice more.

So after high school, I never asked them for money again.

I paid the bills.

When Dad got sick, I covered his surgery.

I dropped twenty grand renovating the house back home.

And when Zoey studied abroad? Forty grand a year. I paid for three years.

I really thought I had a happy family.

Now I saw it for what it was.

A bottomless pit sucking me dry.

I gave them everything.

And now they wanted to destroy my home.

My fingers were still numb as I opened the post again.

The poster had updated it a minute ago.

[Thanks to @LindaKnowsBest for the idea. I already did it. Now I'm waiting to see how my older daughter reacts.]

The comments were tearing her apart.

She ignored every one of them.

I stared at the update, then laughed.

Fine.

If you wanted to play games, I could play too.

***

My phone buzzed again.

Another long voice message from Mom.

"Kyla, did you see it? I've been through this before. Once a man cheats, he's trash. You need to think ahead!"