I fainted one day when the twins were almost 11 months old and was rushed to the hospital. The doctor explained that I was pregnant and exhausted, reiterated that I needed to be examined and made to rest at the hospital for a few days. As a result, she had to come to help with the twins in the house. It was more like her home too since she spent six months with us.

James’ aunt had stayed for a day and a half and left when she realized there wasn’t much to do. After spending five days in the hospital, I was discharged.

I was shocked to get home to find my James’ Aunt (Bernice) in the house. She backed the older twin and was sitting forward feeding the other with the feeding bottle. I was relieved but surprised to find that Grace was missing. I asked where she was, and James hastily replied that lectures were getting serious and she had to leave for school.

Later that day, I called Grace’s number, but she didn’t pick up. I left her several messages of gratitude with several adorable stickers and emojis. She only responded, “it’s okay” with a smile emoji and a simple “thanks” for the receipt of the money I sent to her. I didn’t read much into it until about a month later when she came visiting, helped to prepare for the twins’ birthday, and started her rude behavior.

She always had a counter-suggestion to everything I raised, even when her opinion was not needed. It was my children’s birthday, but she acted like her opinion was more important. Mum insisted she leave with them the night of the birthday when she made a silly remark about my husband and me that raised several eyebrows. James looked very angry but didn’t say anything.

Later that week, I saw a message notification on James’ phone from my sister reading, “Come to my sch to visit; there’s a hotel nearby.” I didn’t know what to think and thought they probably had things to clear up; she probably wanted to apologize.

The next day, James sent a message that he might be late, but he didn’t come at all. I was worried because his phone was switched off. The twins were frantic that particular night, and I only slept around 7 am the next morning when they finally quieted down and fell asleep. I was beyond exhausted. I woke up to find him bouncing one of the twins while the other one played in his push trolley.

He must have dropped his phone on the bed beside me and rushed to take care of the twins when they were crying, because the sound of the phone beeping continuously was what woke me up. I was startled to see that it was my sister calling. We never put passwords on our phones, so I easily accessed his chats with her.

She had indeed messaged him two days ago asking to see him and also blackmailing him. She had threatened to expose all they did together to me if he didn’t come visit her. Before then, he had sent her several money. As I read on, my eyes got blurry with tears, but I kept wiping them to continue reading through the chats.

There were messages where she told him she couldn’t bear the thought of him with me instead of her in a voice note. In the message he sent last, which was this morning, he had begged her to end this thing, that he loved me, and he feels like a monster. He had no idea how things got this bad and that she should find herself a boyfriend. She requested he send her five hundred thousand, and he did. He shared the receipt and added a kneeling emoji, then a message that read, “Let this madness end please.”

Reading those messages was heart-wrenching. Every word carved deeper into my heart. I felt betrayed and confused, struggling to process the reality that my husband had been entrapped in his sister’s web of manipulation. The anger bubbled inside of me, juxtaposed with a feeling of helplessness. Here I was, caring for our twins and expecting another child, trying to hold our family together, while he was entangled in this deceitful game orchestrated by his own sister.

In the days that followed, I confronted James. The conversation was heated, raw, and revealing. He apologized for his lack of judgment and promised to cut ties with Grace. Yet, the damage had been done, and trust, once broken, is not easily mended. It’s difficult to forget the image of my sister-in-law feeding my children while plotting against me.

His promises echoed in my head as I navigated through those challenging days, forever etched in my mind were the moments I felt the weight of betrayal and heartbreak. As I tried to focus on caring for the twins, I grappled with the fear of what the future would hold now that the façade had been lifted. Despite my attempts to keep my family united, the shadow of his sister’s manipulation lingered—a reminder of how fragile trust can be.