My mother-in-law shoved me into the deep pool, shrieking, “Her fake pregnancy is over!” Unable to swim, I sank into the dark abyss. Waking up in the hospital, the doctor said, “The baby is safe, but your husband filed for divorce an hour ago.”

My breathing stopped.

“The pool wasn’t supposed to be open.”

I frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“The safety gate had been locked.”

He swallowed.

“Someone unlocked it.”

My stomach turned.

“Who?”

Ethan’s eyes filled with fear.

“We don’t know yet.”

Then he added quietly,

“But Linda was the last person seen near the gate.”

The room went silent.

I stared toward the door.

My sister.

My husband.

My mother-in-law.

And my unborn children.

Suddenly, I realized something terrifying.

Maybe the pool incident wasn’t the beginning of the betrayal.

Maybe it was only the part I had survived.

Ethan picked up his phone again.

“There is one more thing.”

“What?”

He showed me another message.

This time, the sender was unknown.

The message contained only six words:

She wasn’t supposed to wake up.

My hands began trembling.

I looked at Ethan.

For the first time since I woke up, he looked genuinely terrified.

Then another message appeared.

And neither were the babies.