My baby shower was supposed to be the first happy day I had allowed myself in months.

I was twenty-nine weeks pregnant, standing in my mother’s backyard in Portland, Oregon, wearing a pale blue maternity dress and flat sandals because my ankles had stopped cooperating sometime around month six. White balloons swayed from the fence. Lemonade glasses sweated on the folding tables. My husband, Ethan, kept one hand near my lower back like he was afraid I might disappear if he looked away too long.

For once, I felt safe.

Then my sister showed up.

Vanessa was thirty-two, three years older than me, and late by exactly forty minutes, which was early for her if she wanted attention. She came through the side gate in a red dress, sunglasses on her head, carrying a gold gift bag and wearing the kind of smile that had ruined birthdays, graduations, and one engagement dinner.

“Relax, Maya,” she said when she hugged me too tightly. “I’m here.”

That was the problem.

Vanessa and I had barely spoken since Christmas, when she announced to our entire family that I was “playing house” because Ethan and I had gotten pregnant before buying a home. She had always needed to win, even at things that were not contests. When I got engaged, she cried because her boyfriend had not proposed. When I got promoted, she told people my boss “liked pretty faces.” When I got pregnant, she said, “Some women get everything without earning it.”

I tried to keep the peace because my mother begged me to.

“Just for today,” Mom whispered that afternoon. “Please.”

So I smiled through Vanessa’s comments about my weight, my dress, and the nursery theme. I smiled when she asked loudly if we were “sure Ethan was ready.” I smiled until she clinked a spoon against her glass and stood near the dessert table.

“I have a surprise,” Vanessa announced.

My stomach tightened.

Ethan frowned. “What surprise?”

Vanessa reached into her gold gift bag and pulled out a folded sheet of glossy paper.

My ultrasound.

Not the one we had shared.

The private one from two weeks earlier.

The one showing we were having a girl.

My mouth went dry.

“We all know Maya loves secrets,” Vanessa said brightly. “But I thought family deserved to know.”

Gasps moved through the yard.

Ethan stood up. “Where did you get that?”

Vanessa’s smile sharpened. “Maybe she should be more careful who she trusts.”

My mother whispered, “Vanessa, stop.”

But Vanessa had already held it high.

“It’s a girl!”

Everyone froze.

That moment should have belonged to Ethan and me. Instead, my sister stole it and waved it like a trophy.

I stepped toward her, shaking. “Give it back.”

Vanessa lowered the ultrasound just enough for me to see her eyes.

“You always get the perfect life,” she hissed. “You don’t deserve this.”

“Vanessa,” Ethan warned.

I reached for the paper.

She shoved my hand away.

Then, in front of everyone, my sister snapped.

She kicked me in the stomach.

Pain shot through my body so suddenly I could not scream at first. I stumbled backward, grabbing my belly with both hands. Ethan caught me before I hit the ground.

The backyard erupted.

My mother screamed. Someone dropped a glass. Ethan shouted for someone to call 911.