Dr. Hartwell turned the monitor toward everyone. “Your wife is measuring at eleven weeks,” she said. Marcus’s smug expression remained unchanged. He believed he had finally caught me. He had undergone a vasectomy eight weeks earlier, so he assumed an eleven-week pregnancy proved I had conceived the child with another man. “You see?” he told Serena. “She was already carrying someone else’s baby.”

But Dr. Hartwell’s expression hardened. “Mr. Bennett, an eleven-week pregnancy was conceived roughly three weeks before your procedure. Your vasectomy did not fail. It was never relevant to whether this child is yours.” The room fell silent. Marcus stared at her, suddenly uncertain. Then the doctor pulled up another result on her computer. “There is something on this chart you both need to hear before anyone signs anything.”