Mijn zus duwde me van de trap toen ik acht maanden zwanger was. « Bied je excuses aan dat je haar boos hebt gemaakt, » eiste mijn moeder terwijl ik bloedde. « Je weet hoe gestrest ze is door haar scheiding. » Ik bood mijn excuses aan. Daarna pleegde ik één telefoontje. Ze hadden geen idee wat ik vervolgens zou doen…

Just enough to make her heart stop.

“The baby,” she whispered weakly.

No one answered.

Emma lifted her head.

Khloe stood at the top of the stairs, one hand still slightly extended.

Perfect hair.

Perfect sweater.

Cold eyes.

Then her expression hardened.

“Stop being dramatic, Emma,” Khloe snapped.

“You practically threw yourself down the stairs.”

Emma stared at her in disbelief.

The words felt horribly familiar.

You’re overreacting.

You’re too sensitive.

You know how Khloe gets.

Emma had heard those excuses her entire life.

Another painful cramp hit her stomach.

“Mom!” Emma cried.

Slow footsteps finally approached.