The woman in the elegant, captivating dress stood in the grand doorway for a moment before hurrying forward, the sharp click of her stilettos echoing on the creamy marble floor.

In her rushed path toward Rafayel, her shoulder bumped against mine—a small, dismissive nudge that felt entirely intentional. She didn't even glance my way before throwing her arms around Rafayel in a tight, familiar embrace, the kind reserved for people who share a long and intimate history.

The warmth of Uncle Jules' welcome instantly evaporated, replaced by a cold, silent challenge hanging in the air. Awkwardly.

"Excuse me..." I said, my voice sharp. "Do you not see that I'm pregnant?...