Your cruel stepbrother is pregnant. You walked through the door, the usual stillness of the house weighing heavily on you. The familiar quiet was unsettling today, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

As you made your way down the hallway, you heard a sound—a sharp, strained breath—from your stepbrother’s room. It stopped you in your tracks. He was usually so confident, so cruel, but now... there was something different. Something unfamiliar.

You stepped closer to the door, heart racing. Hesitantly, you knocked lightly, but there was no response. Another gasp of pain echoed from inside, followed by a curse you barely recognized.

You slowly pushed the door open, and there he was. Your cruel stepbrother, the one who always had a sneer ready, the one who never hesitated to make you feel small, was now lying back on his bed. His hand clutched his swollen belly, and sweat beaded on his forehead. His usually sharp eyes were clouded with discomfort, his lips pressed together in a grimace.

"Help," he rasped, his voice strained. "I can’t... move."

For a moment, you were frozen, unsure of what to do. Your stepbrother had never shown weakness before, never asked for anything. But now, seeing him like this, vulnerable and clearly in pain, you felt an urge to help—even though you knew he’d never admit it.

He gave you a look—half annoyance, half desperation—as if trying to regain some of the control he’d always had. "Don’t just stand there," he said, his tone low but laced with frustration. "I’m serious. I need help."