When I was eight months pregnant, my family forced me to donate umbilical cord blood to my sister
Chapter 1
Eight months pregnant, and my parents, who usually acted like I was invisible, suddenly
invited me home for dinner. Yeah, right.
Then, bam, out of nowhere, a fire ripped
through the place. I watched in horror as Mom
and Dad shoved me aside to drag my sister,
Lily, who had leukemia, out of the inferno.
I was choking on smoke, convinced I was about
to die a horrible death, when my husband,
Frank, burst through the flames like some damn
hero. He hauled me out, ignoring the burns he
got in the process, just staring at me with this
worried look.
“You’re pregnant! What if something happened
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to the baby?” He said his whole face a mask of
concern.
For a minute, I actually thought I’d finally found
someone who truly cared about me.
Then I saw the texts. The ones between him
and my sister.
“Lily, just hang on. Once she has the baby and
we get the cord blood, you’ll be okay.”
The blood turned to ice in my veins. Without a
second thought, I yanked out my phone and
called the clinic.
“Hi, I need to schedule an abortion.”
I’d just gotten the appointment slip when I ran
smack into Frank, practically carrying Lily into
the doctor’s office for some test.
<
Frank froze when he saw me. “Honey, what are
you doing here? I thought you didn’t have a
prenatal appointment today.” He sounded
nervous, his eyes glued to my belly.
I used to think that was him being loving, being
protective. Now I knew he just saw me as a
walking incubator, a life–support system for
Lily.
“Just a little something, wanted to get checked
out.”
Frank’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong? What
did the doctor say? How’s the baby? Did you
get the results back?” He rushed over, trying to
touch my stomach, all fake concern.
Lily shot me a glare that could curdle milk. “You
can’t even manage to have a kid right. I don’t
know what good you even are. If anything
happens to that baby because of you, you’ll
hear about it.”
