I led Josh downstairs, glanced at the bird he was talking about—a giant crow that had pooped on my car—and started pulling toys out of the toy box to distract him.

By 5:45 p.m., Nate still wasn’t home, and I was a bundle of nerves. The house looked like a bomb had hit it, picture books and toys scattered across the floor, interspersed with crayons and bits of colored paper. Josh had turned whiny and clingy, not wanting me to leave the room. He was sick, but bored: the worst combination for a child.

I glanced at the clock again and finally called Moira. I told her I’d left my purse at the hospital and needed to run over really quick. She came over immediately. That was the thing about Moira: no matter her problem with me, she adored Josh.

The first time we met was at a barbecue at her house a few months after I’d moved in with Nate. I’d adored Nate’s family the instant I met them, and thought they liked me too. I loved the easy banter, the camaraderie, the love. I felt happy and accepted, a baby in my belly and Nate’s arm around my shoulders.

A little while later I escaped to the bathroom. I was just coming out when I heard Moira and Nate’s sister, Aimee, coming down the hall.

“Don’t you think her maternity dress is a little… I don’t know, rrrarrrr?” Moira made a sexy roar sound at the back of her throat.

I looked at my dress, which I’d scoured secondhand stores for. It was a navy body-con dress that stretched over my baby bump.

“Yeah, she’s trying a little too hard,” Aimee agreed.

I’d quietly shut the bathroom door, cheeks burning. Belonging to their family had been a mirage. A nice, pretty façade. I felt again like that little girl watching Kelly get her picture taken with her family: an outsider looking in.

I’d used the baby as an excuse for the first time that day, saying I wasn’t feeling well and needed to go home and lie down. It was awkward with Moira after that. But then I realized that the family we were creating—Nate, our baby, and me—was all I needed. It was everything I’d dreamed of. I couldn’t risk losing it.

I was in control of my family.

I sent a quick text to Nate telling him I was going to get my purse, and headed to the hospital. I was driving too fast, burning through a yellow light and not stopping at a pedestrian crossing, but I didn’t care. I had to get there and back as quickly as possible.

At the hospital, I did a loop around the parking lot, but saw no sign of Nate’s Crown Vic. I was safe.

For now.