I should have paid more attention to that mysterious smile, but I’d seen it too many times before. Sarah was always cooking up get-rich-quick schemes that never panned out—the organic smoothie business that lasted two weeks, the life-coaching certification she never finished, the cryptocurrency investment that lost her three months’ rent.
“Trust me,” she said, patting her belly with an air of confidence that should have set off alarm bells. “This time everything’s going to work out exactly as planned.”
Dad beamed at her like she’d just announced a cure for cancer. “That’s my girl—always landing on her feet.”
I took another bite of pot roast, trying to swallow down the familiar feeling of being second best. Some things never change, I thought, watching my parents hang on Sarah’s every word.
The call from Sarah came on a Tuesday morning. I was at my desk reviewing marketing reports when my phone lit up with her name. I almost let it go to voicemail—our conversations were usually brief and awkward—but something made me answer.