Family traditions are supposed to bring warmth, laughter, and memories—not stolen ultrasound pictures, fake pregnancies, and inheritance schemes.
Every year on the Fourth of July, we gathered at my grandmother’s house. That hadn’t changed since I was little. Fireworks, grilled food, and family stories around the table. But this year was going to be even more special—Mark and I had news to share. I was four months pregnant, and this celebration felt like the perfect time to tell everyone.
We were both giddy as we drove over. “Do you think they’ll guess?” Mark asked.
I smiled, rubbing my belly. “Maybe. But no one expects us to actually say it.”
“And Kate?” he added, his tone shifting.
I scoffed. “She won’t show. She hasn’t come to a family event in years.”
Last time I’d seen my sister Kate, she’d stolen a significant sum of money from me. No apology, no explanation—just silence. Even when I ran into her at the hospital a few weeks ago, she brushed past me like a stranger. So, no, I didn’t expect her. Definitely not at a celebration.
When we got to Grandma’s, everything smelled of nostalgia—burgers on the grill, fresh lemonade, the scent of the roses she always trimmed before holidays. Mom and Grandma were in the kitchen, laughing as if they hadn’t aged a day.
“You’re glowing,” Grandma said with a knowing smile.
I laughed. “Mark’s been feeding me well.”
Dad carried a tray of steaks into the yard, teasing Grandma about taking too long with the sides. Everything was perfect—until a voice shouted from beyond the fence.
“Hey, family! Can someone let me in?”
Kate.
Just like that, the air shifted.
No one knew how to react. Grandma looked stunned. Mom froze. But still, she opened the gate for her. Kate waltzed in like nothing had happened, like years of silence and betrayal didn’t matter.
And then, without missing a beat, she dropped a bomb: “I’m pregnant!”
Cheers. Hugs. Congratulations. Everyone fawned over her, and I stood there in stunned silence, hand still on my belly.
Mark squeezed my hand. “Do we say it now?”
“I guess we should.”
So we did. “We’re expecting too,” I announced, trying to sound cheerful.
More hugs. More excitement. Except from Kate, who didn’t even look up.
Then came the passive jab: “Funny how you’re pregnant now, right after I am.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shrugged. “Just seems convenient.”
The tension crackled. And then she accused me of trying to grab Grandma’s inheritance.
“What are you talking about?” I snapped. “That money is for my child, not for me.”
Kate wasn’t done. “I don’t even believe you’re pregnant.”
I reached for my bag, ready to pull out the ultrasound pictures I’d brought. But they were gone. Mark checked the car. Nothing.
And then Kate, with that smug little grin, pulled out my ultrasound photos.
“These are mine,” she claimed.
I lost it. “Are you serious?! You stole those!”
“Jane, that’s enough,” Mom said sternly. “You’re being cruel.”
Mark returned empty-handed, and I could feel everyone turning against me. Except I knew the truth. I stormed off before I said something worse.
When I returned, I caught Kate in the bathroom, casually popping pills.
“What are you taking?”
“Retinoids. My dermatologist prescribed them.”
I froze. “You know those are extremely dangerous for pregnant women, right?”
She blinked, caught off guard. “They didn’t say anything.”
“Of course they didn’t. Because you’re not pregnant.”
Kate tried to deny it, but she wasn’t nearly clever enough to hide the cracks in her story. I went back to the table and asked her, loud enough for everyone to hear, “What pills did you say you’re taking again?”
She answered too quickly. “Retinoids. Why, can’t you remember anything?”
And that’s when Mom’s and Grandma’s expressions changed.
“Kate, you can’t take those! Not while pregnant!” Mom shouted.
“They’re forbidden even a year before trying to conceive!” Grandma added.
Kate fumbled. “Well… no one told me.”
I stepped in. “Because you’re not actually pregnant.”
She screamed about attention, refused to take a test, and finally—out of nowhere—demanded to know why Grandma’s inheritance should go to my baby.
And just like that, Grandma stood up, firm and furious. “You were going to steal from me while I’m still alive? I was going to split it between both babies. But now? You get nothing.”
Cue fireworks. Literally. Dad started the show as Kate stood there, eyes wide with shock, her mask shattered in front of everyone.
“I hate this family!” she screamed and stormed off, her silhouette disappearing beneath the bursts of red and gold in the sky.
I stood quietly, Mark’s arm around me, and felt something I hadn’t expected: relief.
She had tried to manipulate us all, to rewrite the truth with lies and stolen photos—but in the end, the truth exploded louder than any firework. And this time, everyone saw it.
