Armed with this new knowledge, I returned to Cheryl’s hospital room, my mind swirling with questions. What else was she hiding? Why didn’t she trust me, her own sister, enough to share her pain?

Cheryl lay on the hospital bed, looking more fragile than I’d ever seen her. The room was quiet, except for the steady beep of the heart monitor. I took a deep breath and sat beside her.

“Cheryl, we need to talk,” I said gently, trying to keep my voice steady. “I looked at your medical records. I know about the other pregnancies.”