All Chapters of Pregnant With My Twin Sister’s Fiancé’s Baby: Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

The ultrasound room was dim, illuminated only by the glow of the monitor and the ambient light from the hallway. It smelled of industrial disinfectant and the cloying, powdery scent of Chanel No. 5."Alright, Mom," the ultrasound technician chirped. She was young, bubbly, and completely oblivious to the glacial tension in the room. "Let's get a look at this little peanut. Lift your gown, please."Aria pulled the hospital gown up, exposing her stomach. She felt exposed in every sense of the word. Her skin was pale, untanned, vulnerable.Eleanor Stone sat in the visitor’s chair, her posture rigid. She watched the procedure not with wonder, but with the critical eye of a woman inspecting a garment for loose threads."You're so small," Eleanor commented. "At six weeks with Sienna, I was already showing. But then, Sienna took up space. You always tried to disappear."Aria stared at the ceiling tiles. Don't engage, she told herself. Just get through the scan."Cold gel coming," the tech war

"If you're going to be childish," Eleanor Stone had said.She was standing by the door, purse clutched in her manicured hand, waiting for the apology that always came. The apology Aria had offered a thousand times before—for being too loud, too quiet, too smart, too clumsy, too Aria.But the silence in the hospital room stretched. It grew teeth.Aria lay back against the pillows, her eyes closed. She felt the heavy, rhythmic thud of the fetal monitor. Life. Life. Life."I'm not apologizing," Aria said.Eleanor gasped. It was a theatrical sound, designed to elicit guilt. When it didn't work, her tone shifted. The wounded mother vanished, replaced by the critic."This is exactly what I mean," Eleanor said, stepping back into the room. "You have no stamina, Aria. No emotional resilience. You lie there, creating drama, pushing away the people who are trying to help you.""Help?" Aria opened her eyes. "You called me defective.""I called you delicate. And it’s true. Look at you. You’re fal

The hospital room was quiet, except for the rhythmic whoosh of the fetal monitor. Noah had stepped out to meet with Steven, leaving Aria in the semi-darkness of the evening shift.The door eased open.Sienna slipped inside. She wasn't wearing her "Auntie Si" yoga pants. She was dressed in black—black trousers, black turtleneck, black coat. She looked like a cat burglar who had stopped off at Bergdorf’s."You look like you're robbing a bank," Aria said, her voice raspy from sleep."Better," Sienna said, pulling the visitor’s chair close to the bed. "I'm robbing a narrative."She checked the door, then leaned in close. Her face was grim, stripped of the soft redemption she had been wearing for the last few days."I didn't just find a call log, Aria," Sienna whispered. "I heard the follow-up."Aria pushed herself up on her elbows. "What follow-up?""I went to the townhouse this afternoon," Sienna said. "To pick up some of my old things before the bank changes the locks. Mom and Dad were

The lock was sticky. It had always been sticky. As a teenager, Sienna had learned the exact jiggle required to open it silently when sneaking out.But tonight, her hands were shaking too hard to find the rhythm.Click. Stuck. Click. Stuck."Sienna!"The hand clamped around her wrist wasn't frail. It was iron.Franklin Stone spun her around. The momentum slammed her back against the heavy oak door. The air left her lungs in a sharp gasp."Dad," she choked out. "Let go.""Give it to me," Franklin snarled. His face was inches from hers, distorted by rage and the heavy reek of single malt scotch.He didn't wait for her to comply. He wrenched the phone from her other hand. His grip was bruising, twisting her fingers until she cried out."Franklin, stop!" Eleanor stood at the end of the hallway, clutching her pearls, her face pale. Not with concern for her daughter, Sienna realized, but with fear of a neighbor hearing the noise.Franklin ignored his wife. He held the phone up. The screen wa

"The argument is brutal," Steven said. His voice, usually smooth with corporate confidence, was rough around the edges. "But it is legally sound."He sat in the visitor's chair, a leather briefcase open on his lap. The hospital room had transformed once again—from a therapy space to a war room."Read it," Noah commanded. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the lawyer.Steven adjusted his glasses. He picked up the draft petition Sienna had intercepted via her cloud sync."'The mother, Aria West, is currently confined to a hospital bed due to a high-risk pregnancy. Her medical restrictions prevent her from lifting, carrying, or actively supervising the minor child, Emma West. Consequently, the child is effectively without a maternal figure, left to the care of paid staff and a father whose professional obligations and recent behavioral instability render him unavailable.'"Aria lay still. The words felt like physical blows. They were taking her body’s failur