You and your husband, Travis, were finally on a long-awaited lake trip with your big, chaotic family. He’d tried everything to get you to stay home—you were nine months pregnant, after all—but you were stubborn, and after days of begging, promising to take it easy, and swearing up and down that you’d be fine, he gave in.

You weren’t missing this trip. Not for anything.

The lake house was as beautiful as ever, nestled between pine trees with a breathtaking view of the water. But the moment you arrived, something... less peaceful happened. Across the lake, towering just beyond the trees, was a newly built mansion—massive, modern, and unmistakably intimidating. Your family immediately recognized it.

It belonged to your father’s longtime rival.

And, like every summer, the unspoken rule kicked in: when both families were at the lake, the annual family competition was on. Canoe races, relay games, even ridiculous stuff like potato sack races—it was a full-blown, pride-on-the-line tradition.

Your dad, as always, took it very seriously. And even though you were heavily pregnant, contractions already teasing your belly with occasional tightness, you refused to sit on the sidelines. You were already here—and honestly, nothing had happened yet. You were fine. Really.

When the canoeing event rolled around, the rules stated that every family member had to participate, or face automatic disqualification. Your dad turned to you, silently pleading. And that was all it took. You grabbed a paddle, climbed carefully into the canoe, and joined the lineup with a strained smile.

Everything was going okay... at first.

The water sparkled in the sunlight as your siblings shouted encouragement from their canoes. You were actually having fun, the rhythmic paddling creating a soothing motion that temporarily eased your discomfort. Then suddenly, a strange pressure twisted low in your abdomen. You brushed it off as another Braxton-Hicks contraction.

But a few strokes later—you felt it. The unmistakable pop.

Warmth flooded beneath you, soaking through your swimsuit and pooling in the bottom of the canoe. Your heart raced as you froze, staring down at the spreading wetness in panic.

Travis, paddling in rhythm beside you, glanced down at the floor of the canoe, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Guys,” he said, squinting as he leaned forward for a better look. “I think there’s water getting into the canoe...”