Chapter 8 - THE PLAN THEY HID FROM ME

The room went silent.

Nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

Because one sentence had changed everything.

“Did you make sure nobody saw the medication?”

Daniel replayed the video.

Again.

And again.

My father’s voice.

My father’s face.

My father asking about medication.

I felt sick.

“What medication?”

Detective Harris watched the video carefully.

Then he looked at us.

“We need to find out.”

That afternoon, police searched my family’s house.

I didn’t want to know what they would find.

But part of me already knew.

Because suddenly I remembered all the small things.

The tea my mother insisted on making.

The vitamins she bought for me.

The pills she said were “just extra pregnancy support.”

The way she watched me take them.

At the time, I thought she was being caring.

Now I wondered if she was monitoring me.

That evening, Detective Harris called.

His voice was serious.

“We found something.”

My stomach tightened.

“What?”

“A bottle.”

“Of what?”

“Medication not prescribed by your doctor.”

I closed my eyes.

Daniel grabbed my hand.

“Was Emily taking it?”

The detective paused.

“We’re testing it.”

The waiting was unbearable.

Then he said:

“There’s something else.”

“What?”

“The bottle had Rachel’s fingerprints.”

I felt tears burning my eyes.

My own sister.

My own mother.

My own father.

All connected.

The detective continued.

“We also found printed emails between Michael Reeves and your father.”

“What did they say?”

A pause.

“Your father was worried the trust would become permanent once your daughter was born.”

I laughed bitterly.

“So they were running out of time.”

“Yes.”

That was the worst part.

My daughter’s birthday wasn’t just a happy day to them.

It was a deadline.

A countdown.

The next morning, Rachel called.

I almost didn’t answer.

But I did.

Her voice was shaking.

“Emily.”

“What do you want?”

“I need you to listen.”

I stayed silent.

“I didn’t know it would go this far.”

My eyes narrowed.

“You kicked me.”

“I know.”

“You tried to hurt my baby.”

“I was angry.”

“No.”

My voice became stronger.

“You were desperate.”

Rachel started crying.

Then she whispered:

“It wasn’t supposed to happen that way.”

I froze.

“What does that mean?”

Silence.

Then:

“Mom told me the baby wasn’t the only thing standing in our way.”

My heart stopped.

“What else?”

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