Chapter 1

Mom truly believed my brother's future mattered more than my child's life. I was shaking with rage.

"My last name might be Abbott, but this baby is mine and Matt's. You have no right to decide whether he lives or dies. I'm already 30! It took me forever to get pregnant, Mom, and you know that!"

Mom sounded completely unbothered. "So what? If you can't have one, just adopt. That way you can save your money for your brother."

To her, the baby it had taken me four years to conceive was no more than a product she could send back for a refund.

I could feel my blood boiling.

"Mom, I'm your child too." My voice trembled with anger. "Have you ever cared about me at all?"

"I raised you and put you through school. Haven't I been good enough to you? Your brother is this family's future. Instead of helping out, you want to stand in the way of his future. What good are you as a big sister?"

What good was I?

She had been saying that for as long as I could remember.

When I came in first in my class, she said, "What good is that? It won't put food on the table. Your brother passing math means more than that."

When I won a scholarship, she said, "That money's no use to you. Go sign your brother up for tutoring."

On my wedding day, she said in front of everyone, "What good was it raising a daughter for 20-some years? She still went off and became part of someone else's family. In the end, it's the son you have to count on."

I thought I had gotten used to it long ago. However, at that moment, my chest hurt so much that I could barely breathe.

"There is no way I'm getting rid of this baby!" I said firmly, then hung up.

My husband, Matt Garrison, pushed the door open and came in. My mother-in-law, Barbara Dempsey, followed behind him while carrying a bowl of soup.

"I made some chicken noodle soup," she said. "It'll help build your strength back up."

I looked at her, and my eyes suddenly stung. From the day I joined this family, they had treated me so well that I still was not used to it.

When we were getting married, Mom suddenly raised the amount she wanted from the Garrisons at the last minute, and I was so angry that I got into a huge fight with her over the phone.

When Barbara found out, she took my hand and said, "It's fine. If she wants 40,000 dollars, then 40,000 dollars it is. We'll scrape it together. Don't fight with your mom. A wedding is a happy occasion, so don't let this ruin it."

She had never once complained.

I went four years without getting pregnant, and at every family get-together, someone always made snide remarks about how the Garrisons had married a woman who could not give them a baby.

I kept smiling, but I was dying inside.

Yet every time, Barbara said, "There's no rush. They're still young, and they have plenty of time."