Scars of Betrayal, Sisters' New Power

From the back cover

My unborn child died because my husband ignored my desperate pleas. He chose to prioritize a staged emergency from his manipulative adopted sister, Holly, leaving me and my own sister to be brutally attacked by thugs.

As I bled out on the street, my sister, Jayde, finally got him on the phone. We heard his voice, calm and soothing, telling Holly everything was fine. When Jayde screamed that I was having a miscarriage, he accused us of being dramatic.

"This is exactly what Holly warned us about," he said coldly, before hanging up.

In the hospital, the doctors confirmed the worst. My baby was gone, and I could never have another. Jayde's hands, the hands of a brilliant concert pianist, were permanently crippled. Our husbands, the men who were supposed to protect us, had abandoned us for a lie.

But as I stared at Jayde' s ruined hands and felt the crushing emptiness in my own body, a cold resolve solidified within me. They thought they had broken us. They had only forged us into something far more dangerous.