Camille thought she and her pregnant sister shared everything until Eliza refused to reveal her baby’s name. Everyone else knew, even their mom. But when Camille finally uncovers the secret, the meaning behind the name leaves her stunned and almost destroys their relationship.
My sister Eliza and I had always been close.
We shared everything, and I mean everything.
When she had her first kiss at 14, I knew before her diary did. When she got her heart broken in junior year, she crawled into my bed with me at two in the morning and broke down in ugly sobs.
I was her confidant for discussing every job interview, every fight with Mom, and every weird dream about flying cats.
We weren’t just sisters; we were best friends.
So when Eliza announced she was pregnant, I naturally assumed I’d be her go-to person for every detail.
Paint colors for the nursery? Check. Debate between cloth and disposable diapers?
Obviously. Baby names? Well, that’s where things got weird.
“So, what options are you thinking about for my niece’s name?” I asked during one of our coffee dates.
I had a whole list of suggestions ready and was practically bouncing in my seat; I was that keen to discuss them all.
I mean, naming a child is a huge deal.
Eliza just smiled this vague, distant smile and stirred her decaf. “We’re still deciding.”
“Come on, you’re just about ready to pop, Liz! You must have some favorites.
What about family names? Or are you going modern?”
“We’re still figuring it out, Cam.” She gave me a look over the top of her mug, one I recognized immediately as her “back off” stare.
And that was that.
There was no excited brainstorming session, no asking what I thought about Madison versus Emma, not even horrified whispers about her husband wanting to name the child after some great-aunt with a weird name.
Just this polite wall that felt completely wrong between us.
It felt like she didn’t trust me, but I tried to brush it off.
I convinced myself she must have a good reason for excluding me. Maybe she wanted to surprise everyone, or maybe Miles had strong opinions, and they were still negotiating.
But I soon realized I was wrong.
I texted her a few times over the next few days with name suggestions, but each time, she texted back, “We haven’t settled on anything yet.”
Which turned out to be a bald-faced lie.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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