Chapter 1

My husband's family carries a gene for multiple births, and I went into labor at the same time as his eldest sister and his second sister.

They both had triplet sons. I had triplet daughters.

"I traded two of your daughters, one with my eldest sister and one with my second, for their sons."

"Lisa Swanson, you'll spend the rest of your life thanking my two sisters for what they gave up, so that you could have both a son and a daughter."

He stood there cradling two "sons," his face full of satisfaction.

I threw off the blanket to go find my daughters. "I don't want a son and a daughter. I only want my girls."

He grabbed me, annoyed. "I went to all this trouble for you. Don't be so ungrateful. Go feed the boys."

"Girls can just drink formula. Breast milk has the real nutrition. I'm doing this for your own good, so that when you die you'll have someone to wear mourning and someone to smash the bowl for you."

I was shaking with rage. "I would rather rot in a gutter when I die than give my daughters away."

His face went dark. "This was decided by our whole family. Lisa, you need to take a good hard look at yourself."

"If you want to blame someone, blame your own useless belly for not giving me a son!"

I sent my sister overseas a voice message in Russian: "I'm going to leave him and keep my daughters."

...

Maurice Roman snatched my phone away and locked the bedroom door.

For a full day and night I was shut in there, dragging my body around after a C-section just to change my daughter's diaper and feed her.

They meant to break me. Not a single grain of rice was sent in, and my milk quickly ran short.

No matter how I pounded on the door, the people outside acted deaf.

Only after I broke down and apologized did Maurice open it.

I held my daughter, who had cried herself hungry, and looked at him with hatred. "Locking up your wife and daughter during her recovery month, are you even human?"

"When I was pregnant you said we had no money for prenatal checkups, then turned around and gave each of your sisters a hundred thousand for theirs."

"When I found out, you swore you'd put me and the children first."

"And now? Give me my two daughters back!"

Maurice set down a bowl of rich bone broth, said nothing to any of it, and turned to leave.

I grabbed his shirt. "I don't want your sisters' sons. I want my daughters."

He shoved me off, impatient. "Back then my mother had a master read your belly. It was all girls. Not worth spending money on checkups."

"My eldest sister said you're just selfish, that you want to leave me without an heir. Daughters belong to other people's families anyway."

"My second sister said we haven't thrown you out, we even sent you sons, so what more do you have to complain about."

I screamed through my tears. "Maurice, you don't deserve to be a husband, and even less to be a father."

"Your mother, your eldest sister, your second sister, they're all women. You were born from a woman too."

"My daughters deserve the best of everything in this world. I'm going to call the police and have all of you arrested."

I was past hope. This was the man I'd fought with my sister over, the man I'd insisted on marrying and moving far away for.

His mother says, his eldest sister says, his second sister says. Every single time.

I was an outsider, and now my daughters had become outsiders too.

Maurice spoke as if he had every right. "Even if the cops show up, this is a family matter. My two sisters and I are triplets. We help each other raise our kids. What's wrong with that?"

"Now drink your soup, or you won't have milk for the boys."

"Honey, where we come from, having no son gets you looked down on. The two girls are being raised at their aunts' houses. You can see them whenever you want."

I pretended my stomach was killing me and curled up on the bed. "Maurice, take me to the hospital, or bring the postpartum nurse back."

I'd carried triplets and was only seven days out from a C-section. My body was already wrecked, and after what they'd done to me, I truly couldn't hold on any longer.

But right then, all I wanted was to get out and find my daughters.

"Don't try anything. My mother says what woman doesn't hurt after giving birth? If you go to the hospital they'll put you on medicine, and that'll ruin the milk."

"Lisa, you're a mother now. Stop being so precious. Drink the soup! My mother made three big bowls. My eldest and second sisters both drank theirs." He pushed the bowl to my lips.

The pain had me breaking out in a cold sweat. I knocked his hand away. "I won't! Bring my daughters back or I'll die right here in front of you!"

"Lisa, my two sisters generously gave us their own sons. What is there for you to be unhappy about!"

"Don't eat, then starve! Three days without food and you'd eat dog shit!" Maurice finished cursing me out and locked the door again.