Amy rubbed her temples in frustration. Around her, her siblings were bickering again. Caitlyn was complaining about someone disturbing her workbench in the garage. Yale was yelling at their mom for using his skin creams. Henry and their father were in a heated discussion about football plays and how effective they could be.

“Please.” She grumbled. “Not so loud.”

“I need that one!” Yale yelled. “My complexion is fairer than yours!”

“Now I can’t find my ¼ inch Dremel head!” Caitlyn whined.

“But it’s less effective if you’re that close to the end-zone.” Henry repeated.

Amy whimpered. Her head felt like it was going to split open. So many voices.

Wait. She concentrated. There were more voices than just her family’s.

“Everyone, quiet!” She called. For once, they listened. “Yale, you’re favourite cream is going on sale tomorrow. 75% off. Caitlyn, your Dremel set fell off the shelf. The ¼ inch is behind the bench. Henry, that quarterback is gonna pull it off in tonight’s game. Mom…” she stumbled. “Yale’s mom is coming for dinner?”

Her parent’s stiffened. Caitlyn called a quick “Thanks!” before running to her workbench. Yale grumbled, but sat down beside Henry and pulled out his phone.

“Of course mom’s coming for dinner.” Henry laughed. “She’s always here.”

“Why would she come now?” Their mom looked pale. She rubbed at her face until it was red.

“What about the twins’ dads?” Their dad asked.

Amy was so confused, she just shook her head.

“This must be serious.” Their mom pulled a cookbook off the shelf and flipped to a section she never used. “I haven’t made ambrosia since Caitlyn broke her leg.”

“Mom.” Yale looked up from his phone. “Amy’s making things up again. There’s no sale.”

“She said tomorrow.” Henry reminded him.

Caitlyn came back into the room, Dremel head in hand. “How’d you know it was there?”

Their dad bit his lip. “Looks like it’s back.” He sighed. “Kids, Amy can sometimes hear whispers of the future.” He looked between Caitlyn and Henry. “When the two of you were born, she told us there was another one coming.”

“So Yale is the youngest.” Caitlyn said smugly. “Take that.”

“It’s not that simple.” Their mom shifted uncomfortably. “You see, the two of you are twins.”

“We’re triplets.” Yale corrected her.

But she shook her head. “The three of you…” she stopped. “The four of you aren’t full sibling.”

“But you just said we’re twins.” Henry said.

Their dad sighed. “It’s complicated.” He shifted uncomfortably. “The two of you have different fathers, neither of which is me.”

He said it so calmly, like he was admitting to eating an extra cookie instead of revealing he wasn’t their real father.

“And, Yale.” Their mother added. “I’m not your mother, not biologically.”

No one said anything for a while. Eventually, Caitlyn spoke up. “What about Amy?”

“Amy is our child, together.” Their dad confessed. “But you are all our children.”

“This is messed up.” Yale laughed bitterly. “So, Amy can see the future and none of us are related.”

“We are related.” Henry corrected. “You’re Amy’s half-brother, and Amy is our half-sister.” He looked at Caitlyn. “And, even though we’re twins, we’re only half-sibling, too.”

“This is like a soap opera!” Caitlyn squealed. She turned to their dad. “So, who’s Yale’s mom?”