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Eight months pregnant, the doctor handed me a report saying my baby was deformed. My husband, Justin Johnson, didn't hesitate. "Abort it. The sooner, the better." That afternoon, I scrolled through my best friend Vivian White's Instagram. She posted: [He finally got rid of the burden for our baby.] The photo showed Vivian's slightly rounded belly and Justin's profile. I let out a cold laugh and sent the screenshot to Margaret Johnson, my ruthless mother-in-law. I typed: [Margaret, your grandson got plotted.] Less than ten minutes later, Margaret stormed into Vivian's place with her people. Looking at Justin and Vivian, I'd like to see who the real burden was today.