My husband had a low sperm count. After eighteen rounds of IVF, I was finally pregnant.

I rushed home clutching my eight-week checkup report, barely able to contain my joy. But the moment Theresa Chavez saw it, her face darkened.

"You can't keep this baby. Your sister-in-law is fighting her ex-husband for custody of Sunny Abbott. If she wins, having a kid will make it harder for her to find someone new. From now on, Sunny stays with you."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Mom, what are you saying? You want me to get rid of my baby? Have you lost your mind?"

"If Jeanette can't raise him, she should just give custody to his father. There's no way I'm raising him, and there's absolutely no way I'm getting rid of this child!"

Jeanette Chavez's expression twisted instantly. "My brother already agreed. Who the hell do you think you are? You don't get to make decisions in this family!"

I turned to my husband, Victor Chavez, disbelief flooding through me. "You agreed to this?"

Victor grabbed my arm, his voice coaxing. "Sis is looking out for you, really. You've never raised a kid before. Taking care of Sunny would be good practice for being a mom. Just go along with it."

I was shaking with rage.

"Victor, it's been three years. I've gone through countless rounds of IVF. My stomach is covered in needle marks. I finally succeeded, and you want me to terminate?"

Theresa cut in from the side, her tone dripping with mockery. "And whose fault is that? You should be grateful my son was willing to go through all that with you. Any other man would've divorced you years ago!"

"I've made the decision. Get rid of it. Once Sunny's a little older, you two can try again."

The blood drained from my face. I looked at Victor. "Is that what you think too?"

He pulled me closer and lowered his voice. "It's just a low sperm count. If it worked once, it can work again. Just listen to my mom."

I stared at him, hollow with despair.

He didn't know. He didn't know that his condition had progressed to azoospermia. Zero sperm. There would be no "next time."

……

"Victor, do you have any shred of humanity left? This is your own flesh and blood in my belly, and you want me to kill it so you can raise your sister's kid?"

Victor held my hand, his face crumpling into a wounded expression. "Honey, try to understand. Sunny is the child my sister carried for nine months. I can't bear to see them separated."

"But you can bear to let our baby die inside me?"

My eyes burned red.

"Victor, we waited three years for this child. I went through eighteen rounds of IVF. How can you just throw our baby away?"

For three years, I had injected myself with ovulation shots. My stomach was a patchwork of tiny puncture wounds, so many they blurred together. During the egg retrievals, the pain was so unbearable I wanted to die. And Victor had cradled my belly, tears streaming down his face.

"I'm so sorry you're suffering. From now on, you and our baby are my whole world. I promise, as long as I'm here, no one will ever hurt you."

But now, the man who had sworn on his life to protect us was volunteering to be the one who killed his own child.

Victor glanced helplessly at his mother. "Mom, maybe we could figure out another way..."

"Figure out what? Who else can we trust to raise Sunny? She's going to the clinic today, and that's final. From now on, Edith Sawyer is Sunny's mother!"

Theresa shoved Victor aside and seized my arm, dragging me toward the door.

I grabbed the edge of the table with everything I had, screaming. "Mom, this baby is your grandchild too!"

Theresa let out a cold, derisive laugh. "My daughter is my own blood. The child she bore is a true Chavez. You're an outsider. How could anything you produce compare to what my daughter gave me?"

"Besides, it's not like I'm saying you can never have kids. Once you've raised Sunny through college, you can have as many as you want. But this one goes."

My chest seized with fury, my heart hammering so hard it hurt.

"Mom, I'm twenty-eight years old. Sunny is four. He won't finish college for another twenty years. I'll be nearly fifty by then. How am I supposed to have a baby at fifty?"

Before Theresa could even speak, Jeanette was already sneering from the side.

"You can't have kids, but plenty of women can. My brother can find someone else to carry his baby. You're a barren hen anyway. IVF babies aren't even healthy. Just let my brother have a child with someone who can actually deliver, and you foot the bill to raise it."

She crossed her arms, looking down at me like I was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

"You just focus on raising my Sunny. Keep me happy, and maybe I'll let him take care of you when you're old."

I was so furious I could barely see straight.

She wanted me to raise her son, let Victor have children with another woman, and pay for it all out of my own pocket? What did that make me?

A walking ATM?

The angrier I got, the more I wanted to blurt out the secret I'd been carrying for three years.

"The one who can't have kids isn't me. It's—"

"Edith!"

Victor dropped to his knees in front of me with a heavy thud, eyes wide, frantically signaling me to stop.

"Honey, I know you've been treated unfairly. My sister saved my life when we were kids. I owe her. I have to repay that debt. I'm begging you, please just agree."

My blood boiled over.

"You owe your sister, then you pay her back! What gives you the right to trade our children's lives for it? I'm telling you right now—over my dead body!"

Jeanette yanked him to his feet and fixed me with an ice-cold glare.

"Why are you even negotiating with her? You're the father. You have every right to decide to get rid of it."

Without another word, she grabbed my arm and started dragging me toward the door. I screamed.

"This is illegal! I'm calling the police!"

I snatched up my phone, but Theresa ripped it out of my hands.

Then Jeanette slapped me across the face.

"Call the police? Go ahead. This is a family matter at most. I'll tell the officers you're carrying some other man's bastard and we're just disciplining a cheating wife. See if anyone lifts a finger for you."

My cheek burned white-hot. My whole body trembled uncontrollably.

I stared straight at Victor. "Victor, are you just going to stand there and watch your sister hit me?"

He shrank back like a turtle retreating into its shell, glancing timidly at Jeanette before mumbling to me in a small voice.

"Honey, that's just how my sister is. Just bear with it."

"Bear with it? Victor, your mother and your sister want to kill our children! Do you even have a heart?"

Before I could finish, Jeanette kicked me square in the chest.

"So what if I hit you? Listen up, Edith—if you come to the clinic quietly, this'll be a lot easier on you. Otherwise, I'll kick it out of you myself. You'll hemorrhage so bad they won't even be able to save your uterus. Try me."

I stumbled backward and crashed to the floor. For a moment, I couldn't breathe.

Victor shifted his weight, half-stepping toward me as if to help me up, then froze. He just stood there, utterly spineless, watching me on the ground.

"Honey, just agree. I promise, I'll make sure they give you anesthesia at the hospital—"

"Anesthesia for what?"

Theresa shot him a withering look. "She's a barren hen. Spending money on her is a waste. Save every penny for Sunny!"

She turned to me with a smile, but something venomous lurked behind it, like needles dipped in poison.

"Edith, sweetheart, don't blame me for being heartless. Blame your bad timing. Who told you to be the one who couldn't conceive? If you'd gotten pregnant right after the wedding three years ago, your child would be running around by now. This is just your fate, dear. Accept it."

I jerked my head up and stared at Victor.

"Victor, say something! Tell your mother the truth—the one who can't have children isn't me! This baby can't be aborted! You have azoosperm—"

"Honey!"

Victor pulled me up from the floor and spoke in a tone heavy with forced patience.

"My mom's just blunt. Haven't I stood by you all this time without complaining that you couldn't conceive?"

"Sunny and my sister are everything to my mom. She can't stand to see either of them suffer even a little. She's just beside herself with worry."

"Don't worry, I won't make you wait twenty years to have another one. Just get rid of this baby first, and I'll talk to my mom and my sister. I'll convince them to let you try again soon."

He leaned close to my ear, his voice barely above a whisper. "Come on, Edith. I have a low sperm count, not zero. Worst case, you tough it out for a few more years. You'll get pregnant again."

My heart went cold. Ice cold.

Three years ago, the premarital physical had revealed his low sperm count. He'd cried that day, helpless and pitiful, terrified I'd leave him.

I chose to marry him anyway, because I couldn't bear to throw away three years of love.

To protect his pride, I let everyone assume the fertility problems were mine.

Three years. Eighteen rounds of IVF. Each one stripped a layer off me, body and soul. And all I got in return was his not complaining and his worst case, a few more years.

A laugh tore out of me, sudden and raw, tears streaming down my face.

"Sunny is your mother's whole world, and your sister treats him like her lifeline. So why isn't my baby my lifeline?"

I tried to grab his collar, but my fingers trembled so badly I couldn't grip anything.

"Victor, do you understand this might be your only child? Are you really that heartless?"

Something flickered in his eyes. He turned to face his mother.

"Mom, maybe we should keep the baby. It wasn't easy for Edith to get pregnant. We can raise Sunny ourselves. Whatever conditions Jeanette has, we'll agree to all of them."

Theresa exchanged a glance with Jeanette, then softened her tone.

"I don't want to lose my grandchild either. Your sister's just worried that once Edith has her own baby, she'll neglect Sunny. How about this: to put your sister's mind at ease, have Edith sign an asset-transfer agreement. Everything goes to Sunny. Then the baby can stay."

Jeanette immediately produced a document and shoved it in my face.

"Sign it."

"Babe, just look it over," Victor said. "If there's anything they don't know about, hand it over too. Give my mom and sister some peace of mind."

I stared at the agreement, numb. Every asset I owned was listed in meticulous detail.

A twenty-one-hundred-square-foot luxury apartment in a top school district. Value: $3 million.

Two commercial storefronts in the downtown business district, each over a thousand square feet. Combined value: $20 million.

A beauty clinic. Value: $5 million.

Fixed deposits across three major banks. $4 million.

A Mercedes. Seven ounces of gold. Appliances, furniture...

Everything from real estate and savings down to the smallest household item, documented with surgical precision.

I hadn't even realized I owned this much.

The final clause stood out like a brand.

All assets to be managed by the legal guardian on behalf of the minor. Designated guardian: Jeanette Chavez.

A voice screamed inside my head, and suddenly it all made sense.

Getting rid of the baby was just the excuse. Seizing my assets was the real goal.

I lifted my head and locked eyes with Victor, my teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached.

"Victor. For this, you'd sacrifice your own child's life?"

His gaze darted away. "Babe, you said the baby was your whole life, right? Trading everything you own for the baby's life... that's a fair deal."

The blood drained from my face. I snatched the agreement and hurled it to the floor.

"I won't sign. This is my premarital property. It has nothing to do with any of you. This is extortion, and I will press charges."

Jeanette erupted. She seized a fistful of my hair and slapped me across the face, once, twice, three times, until my skull rang like a bell.

"Shut your filthy mouth, you little tramp! You belong to the Chavez family. That means your money belongs to the Chavez family!"

She grabbed my hand and forced it down onto the red ink pad.

"I was being nice, giving you a choice. Now press your thumbprint and sign before I stop being polite."

Her grip was terrifying. I felt the bones in my wrist grinding together, ready to snap.