The Heir TrapOn Labor Day, my husband worked himself to death in another woman's bed.
Halfway through the funeral, my mother-in-law said to me, "Malcolm's gone, but this family still doesn't have an heir. Clara, you're still young. Have a child with Vincent. The sooner the better."
I stared at my brother-in-law in his wheelchair, my mind going blank.
"But he's Malcolm's brother."
"Better to keep it in the family," Nora Stroud said with a smile. "This is my decision. Even if Malcolm were still alive, he'd listen to me."
Something in me snapped, and a quiet laugh slipped out.
They wanted an heir, didn't they?
Fine. Then my father-in-law could have one.