THE $18,000 SECRET

Six weeks earlier, Claire had been standing in her kitchen when the invitation arrived.

It came in a thick cream envelope with gold lettering and a tiny satin bow glued to the corner. Claire recognized her mother’s handwriting immediately.

For a moment, she considered leaving it unopened.

Ethan was at the dining table assembling a wooden crib. Half the pieces were spread across the floor while the instruction manual rested upside down beside his coffee.

“Is that from your family?” he asked.

Claire turned the envelope over.

There was no return address, but Marlene had always believed addresses ruined elegant stationery.

“I think so.”

“Do you want me to open it?”

Claire smiled faintly. Ethan had learned to ask that question whenever something arrived from the Wards.

He understood that an envelope from her parents rarely contained only paper. It usually held an obligation, an accusation, or a demand disguised as generosity.

Claire opened it herself.

Inside was an invitation to a luxury baby shower at her parents’ home.

Celebrating Our Two Beautiful Daughters and Their Little Miracles.

Claire read the sentence twice.

Beth was thirty-one weeks pregnant. Claire was twenty-nine weeks pregnant. Their due dates were only twelve days apart.

Once, the coincidence would have thrilled them.

As children, Claire and Beth had shared birthdays, bedrooms, secrets, punishments, and almost every important memory. They had promised that if they ever became mothers at the same time, their children would grow up more like siblings than cousins.

That promise had been made before Grant Mercer.

Before the family trust.

Before Claire discovered that being identical twins did not mean they were valued equally.

Ethan set down the crib rail.

“Are both your names on it?”

“Yes.”

“That’s something.”

Claire handed him the invitation.

At the bottom, beneath the date and dress code, Marlene had written a note.

Claire, please arrive early. We need to discuss the family contribution before the guests arrive.

Ethan read it and frowned.

“What contribution?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have they mentioned money recently?”

Claire leaned against the counter.

Her parents had mentioned money during nearly every conversation since she announced her pregnancy.

Marlene had asked whether Claire planned to return to work after the baby was born. Richard had questioned the value of the small branding company Claire had built from nothing. Beth had repeatedly reminded her that the family’s reputation depended on the twins presenting a united image.

But no one had used the phrase family contribution.

“My mother said the shower was already paid for,” Claire said. “She told me I didn’t need to help.”

“That does not sound like your mother.”

“No. It sounds like something she says before handing me an invoice.”

Ethan looked toward the unopened package on the kitchen island. It contained a home security system they had ordered after Claire discovered someone had entered the house while they were away.

Nothing had been stolen.

A drawer in Ethan’s office had simply been left open.

Inside that drawer were copies of Claire’s trust documents.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go,” Ethan said.

Claire placed a hand against her stomach as the baby shifted.

“If we stay away, they’ll tell everyone I ruined Beth’s shower.”

“It is supposed to be your shower too.”

“That has never stopped them before.”

Ethan crossed the room and rested his hand over hers.

“Then we attend together. We leave whenever you say.”

Claire nodded, but the tightness in her chest remained.

Her phone rang.