Diane’s dining room looked like a stage when we arrived. Cloth napkins, fine china, and a leather folder waited beside my plate. Diane greeted me with a polished smile, while Nathan pulled out my chair with sudden tenderness. His relatives filled the table, smiling too brightly. I understood immediately. This was not a dinner. It was an ambush disguised as a family celebration, exactly the kind of surprise Corinne had warned me about beforehand.

Diane slid the folder toward me and explained that it would transfer my apartment into a family trust. She called it routine estate planning and promised that Nathan would manage everything for the baby’s future. But the apartment was legally mine, purchased with my father’s inheritance. I opened the documents and found exactly what Corinne had predicted: my name would vanish from the ownership papers. Everyone watched as I lifted the pen. Then I reached into my bag.