After my sister died, I married my brother-in-law and sent him on his way ten years later.

After my twin sister died of cancer, my family manipulated me onto my brother-in-law’s bed.

The next day, I knelt naked before Julian Vance, begging him for a chance at life.

His dark eyes lingered on my face, a mirror image of the woman he’d lost. A flicker of something — yearning? — crossed his features, and he took me into the Vance family.

For ten years, I tirelessly managed their daily lives, serving both father and son.

Then, when I was pregnant again, Julian Vance tore up the lab results.

“Get rid of the child.”