David was glowing. He walked around proudly holding the sonogram photo like a trophy. Our brothers clapped him on the back. Mom was already talking about baby shower themes.
But something felt wrong.
The house was too clean. Too quiet.
Sophie’s toys weren’t scattered across the rug. Her crayon drawings—the ones she always taped to the fridge—were gone. In their place hung a glossy baby announcement pinned to the door. It read: “Coming Soon: Our First Real Child.”
The words didn’t sink in right away. Then they did, and it felt like a punch to the chest.
I turned to Claire, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Hey… where’s Sophie?”
She paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. The conversation around the table stopped.
“Oh,” she said lightly, as if she’d forgotten. “I gave her back.”
Silence filled the room.
I stared at her. “You what?”
