Chapter 1

I'd taken time off to bring my daughter on a trip, and we were about to head to the aquarium she'd been dreaming about, when my father-in-law called and ordered me to take my mother-in-law to the hospital.

My mother-in-law had always been perfectly healthy. Not a day earlier, not a day later — she just had to come to town the moment I took my daughter on vacation.

I was about to refuse, and the next second my husband's message came through:

"The aquarium can wait, can't it? Is my mom's health less important than the kid running around and having fun?!"

Here's what actually happened. I picked up my mother-in-law, brought her to the hospital,

and then she claimed she didn't understand the process, so I had to handle her admission and stay with her through the doctor's visit and a full round of tests.

On the third day, I finally got her settled in, and my sister-in-law arrived.

I thought I could finally take my daughter to the aquarium, but my sister-in-law shoved her two difficult daughters at me instead:

"I really envy you, getting to take your kid out to have fun. I'll stay and watch over Mom. To make up for it, you can cover our plane tickets."

The two nieces turned their noses up at the aquarium and ran up five thousand dollars at the arcade in a single day.

My mother-in-law insisted the doctor fit her with an imported heart stent, and the hundred-thousand-dollar bill was waiting for me to pay too.

I refused, and asked to split it.

My husband scolded me, annoyed:

"You're the daughter-in-law. Isn't it only right that you pay for my mom's medical bills?"

My sister-in-law tossed a lottery ticket at me:

"Forget it, forget it, I won't take advantage of you. This ticket can cover fifty thousand of the medical bill."

It made me laugh out of sheer disbelief.

So the whole family was running one nesting-doll con on me here.

It seemed that all these years, I'd played the part too well. I'd given them too much face.

1

My father-in-law called:

"Your mom's coming to Chicago to see a doctor. Tristan Stanley can't get away from work. Go to the airport right now, pick her up, and take her to the hospital."

I froze for a second, sure I'd misheard.

My mother-in-law had always enjoyed making my life difficult, and for years I'd swallowed it and catered to her every complaint.

Before I set off with my daughter, I'd arranged everything for my in-laws for the next three days.

My mother-in-law had even sworn up and down that she wouldn't bother me.

And she'd always been in good health, so why was she suddenly coming to Chicago to see a doctor?

My daughter had happily put on her mermaid dress and was spinning in circles:

"Mommy, look! The dress is so pretty. When we get to the aquarium, the sea lion is going to like me best!"

Watching her, so full of hope, made my heart ache.

"Dad, isn't Mom perfectly fine? Why is she coming to see a doctor? Daisy Abbott's been looking forward to the sea lion show all semester. I promised I'd take her today."

My father-in-law grumbled, displeased:

"Your mom's already on her way. Deal with it or don't, your choice. Don't, and you can leave her to die at the airport."

Then he hung up on me.

I was still stewing over it when my husband's message came in:

"Taking Daisy to the aquarium tomorrow is the same thing. Get Mom settled first. She doesn't know the city or a single soul here, and if she goes missing, none of us can answer for it."

I replied:

"For this trip, I spent a month planning the itinerary, saving up my time off, and it took another week just to lock in an aquarium slot."

"Is my mom's health less important than the kid running around and having fun?!"

There it was again.

It was always like this.

In his eyes, the wish my daughter had held onto all semester was some trivial little thing,

and the trip we'd so carefully planned was an optional bit of fun.

Only his family always came first, and no delay was ever allowed.

I turned to look at my daughter.

She still had no idea anything had changed, holding up the hem of her pretty mermaid dress, tilting her little face up at me, eyes full of hope, asking softly:

"Mommy, can we go now?"

A dull ache spread through my chest. I forced a smile and stroked her hair:

"Mm-hm. But first we have to go to the airport to pick up Grandma. Once we drop her at the hospital, we can go."

"Will there still be time to catch the sea lion show?"

I nodded firmly, promising:

"There will."

I rushed to the airport arrivals gate and spotted my mother-in-law from a distance, a small bag in her hand, standing in the crowd.

The moment she saw us, her face hardened and her voice turned sharp:

"Why are you only getting here now? I've been standing here for almost an hour. Do you have any idea how vicious this sun is? Are you trying to bake me to death?"

"I think you dragged your feet on purpose because you didn't want to come get me!"

I knew her too well. Talk back to her now and she'd complain and scold without end, holding up our trip to the aquarium.

I pushed down the exhaustion in my chest and explained patiently:

"Mom, it's not what you think. I'd promised to take Daisy to the aquarium today, and I only came after getting her changed."

"And Tristan's rental is over twenty miles from the airport, with some traffic on the way. We got here as fast as we could."

She grew even more displeased and let out a cold little sneer:

"When can't the aquarium be visited? What's the point of coddling a girl like she's something precious?"

My sister-in-law had two daughters of her own, and she never said a word about them, treating them like treasures.

But her own granddaughter got nothing but nitpicking.

I held down my anger, stopped arguing, and got her to the hospital.

"Mom, tell the patient guide where it hurts and they'll take you to see the doctor."

"The aquarium show I booked is about to start. I have to go now."

But my mother-in-law dropped down onto the floor, beating her chest and stamping her feet, wailing at the top of her lungs:

"Everybody, come look! My daughter-in-law only cares about taking her kid out to have fun, and doesn't care whether I live or die..."