When my perfect sister Stacy stole my husband while I was pregnant, I was devastated. She always thought she was better than me—and now she’d taken everything. But when her world collapsed, she came crawling back, begging for help.Growing up, I was the invisible daughter. Stacy was the golden child, the star swimmer. Only my grandmother ever truly saw me. She helped me get into college after my parents kicked me out, and I built a life I was proud of.

I married Henry, despite my grandmother’s warnings. One day she told me a friend had seen Henry and Stacy together. I was furious—until I came home and caught them in bed.Henry called me fat. Stacy smirked, saying, “I’m better than you.” I told them I was pregnant. Henry didn’t care. He filed for divorce, took everything, and left me homeless.

I moved in with my grandmother, heartbroken. She took care of me, then dropped a bomb—she was dying. I spent her final months by her side, and when she passed, she left everything to me and my baby.

At the will reading, my family erupted in anger. But my grandmother had chosen me—for once, I wasn’t second best.Weeks later, Stacy showed up. Henry had cheated on her, and they lost everything. She begged to stay with me.No,” I said. “You made your choices.”She called me horrible. I just closed the door.As I rested my hand on my belly, I whispered, “Thank you, Grandma. We’re going to be okay.”